


Jurassic Headcanons and One Shots

by FangirlReader221



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies), Jurassic Park Series - Michael Crichton, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Book: The Evolution of Claire - Tess Sharpe, F/M, Fluff, Headcanon, Ian angst is the best angst, Jurassic June, Nightmares, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 09:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 24,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19059619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlReader221/pseuds/FangirlReader221
Summary: (I do not own any characters or events mentioned.)Right now it is Jurassic June, so in honor of this event, I will be posting Jurassic saga related headcanons in the form of one-shots, every single day. This will have almost every character in the franchise. From angst to fluff, there will be a headcanon for them all. Feel free to leave requests for future one-shots in the comments, just give me a headcanon and I will try my hardest to write it. This may or may not extend out of June but I hope you enjoy seeing all of my headcanons made into one-shots.





	1. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ian Malcolm should use a cane to help him walk but he refuses to just so he knows he can live without it.  
> Inspiration: The Lost World book

Dr. Malcolm's leg throbs. He has very well gotten used to the pain at this point but it is still annoying. Under the blaring lights of his classroom, he tries not to let his voice show any indication of his pain. He's in the middle of a series he's been lecturing about- how Chaos Theory applies to sporting events. Considering practically all of America, and the rest of the world for that matter adores those useless games, he thought it may be pretty intriguing.

As aches tremble behind Ian’s kneecap and through his thigh and shin, he paces back to his podium. At the start of the year, students occasionally asked about his limping. He would always respond to the question asking what happened to his leg by curtly stating “Chaos Theory.” Before changing the topic. There were actually rumors sometimes and they varied from everything between shark attacks and gang fights. One of Malcolm’s personal favorites was that his leg was actually made of metal. The kids were often creative. Of course, those that read his book knew what really happened but it was entertaining nonetheless. 

Leaning heavily with his arms atop the podium, Ian focuses his weight on his good leg. He continues speaking without a fault. He always carries on whatever he’s doing despite whatever pain he might be in. Malcolm was given a cane after his recovery but it was almost always unused. 

The thing about Ian was he didn’t want to feel weak or defenseless. Not after 1993 where he couldn’t even walk. Lying in the mud, command center, and bunker; if something came along, he couldn’t even run away. It was such a repulsive and fearful feeling of helplessness. Malcolm always liked thinking there was another way to do things. An alternative or way out but when he wasn’t even awake enough to scream, there was no way out. He really believed he would die that weekend, alone, on that island.

Ever since, physical weakness wasn’t an option. If he became dependent too much on a cane, or drugs, or something like that he would ultimately return to that helpless state because those things were easy to lose. Ian Malcolm needed to know that he could make it on his own. After learning to shoot and stay in shape, he felt confident he could do that. He figured he just might survive.

For now, though, Ian needed to know he wouldn’t be limited by his disabilities. To do that, he learned to walk through all types of pain. Gritting his teeth, Malcolm continued his lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1/30 done!  
> A little bit of an angsty start but whatever.   
> I hope his sates any fangirly needs for HCs you may have lol. I might not do as many author's notes considering I'm updating daily so I will say it now: (here comes the spiel) I hope this was entertaining and not a waste of time. Feel free to comment on any criticism, ideas, or thoughts you have. Also if you have a headcanon you want to see as a one-shot just leave it in the comments too and I will try to write it for you. I hope you have a lovely day and God bless.


	2. Ian Malcolm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Although not very upfront about it, Ian loves physical contact. Hugs, cuddles, anything that serves as a tangible reminder he isn't alone. He hates to be alone.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies-Ian's actions and body language.

The thing that Ian Malcolm hates most in the world is loneliness. To him, there was nothing more confining than being stuck without a single soul. Although it’s nice knowing being a lone wolf is an option, not having to be was better. 

When Ian was a little kid, his mom would always worry he was too needy. He was willing to throw a fit on the first day of kindergarten but by the end of the day, she almost couldn’t get him to leave his friends. All throughout his educational life, Malcolm always made it his mission to always know someone in each class. Being pretty charismatic, that wasn’t really a problem.

The worst curse someone could have cast on them was not having anyone.

Ian’s fear of being left alone only intensified after Jurassic Park. After the Rex had her fun on the failure of a tour, he was confused, in pain, and alone. There was no one there to hear his involuntary wails of pain as he tightened his belt tighter around his thigh. He had to yank it so tight that sparkles of black sparked into his vision and the only ears to hear him belonged to the animals. The years after ’93 were just as bad too. Alan and Ellie had each other to fall back on, as did the kids, but Malcolm returned to his empty apartment with nothing but fistfuls of hospital bills. 

The hospital was probably the worst though. No one there even spoke English, much less cared about the things he had to say. With his situation not being too dire after the infection was killed, it’s not like his ex-wives would’ve been thrilled to fly his kids to Costa Rica to visit him. The only phone was a pay phone and Ian didn’t have any money; a nurse took pity on him a few times though. Those months were the most isolated and lonely Ian had felt in his entire life.

On Isla Sorna, Kelly was plastered to his side the entire time. Admittedly, maybe for his comfort as much as hers. Since he had taken her to dino death island, the least he could do was make sure she was alright. Sarah he clung too as well. And he still did. 

No matter where he was, Ian always made sure he had someone at arm’s length. Truth be told, he had always been this way. When on dates, he never stopped holding his girlfriend’s hand. He tended to give the people he knew hugs upon departure, pats on the back, and basically lots of physical contact. He walked close enough to friends and lovers his shoulder occasionally would bump theirs. He adored his children and ran his fingers through their hair. He let them sit on his lap, ride on his shoulders, and use him as a tall human jungle gym when they were younger. They really liked that.

Watching movies, he’s sit close enough to touch knees with the person beside him. If it was a date, he’d wrap his arms around his girlfriend to hold her to his chest and be close enough to catch a whiff of her shampoo. Sarah always smelled like flowers. 

To Ian and his irrational dread of loneliness, he needed the physical reminder that he wasn’t alone. He required being able to experience the presence of his loved ones wholeheartedly. He had been told he was clingy by his exes but it wasn’t just about him. He never wanted anyone he cared for to feel those emotions he hates. It wasn't about needing to be in the moment for Ian- it was about needing to feel the moment. It was about needing to say “I’m here”. Ellie Sattler didn’t mind his heartfelt embraces and Dr. Grant put up with them. Deep down though, sometimes getting greeted with a hug is nice; especially when you need it without even knowing. 

The suffocation of a solitary life was one of Ian Malcolm’s greatest fears. Facing his trauma, he experienced it often. Yet, he dealt with it. Now, he always needed the extra reassurance he wasn’t on his own anymore. If he invaded anyone’s personal space, it was coming from a place of affection and care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real inspiration for this headcanon was the way I noticed Ian acted in the movies: Kelly glued to his side, grasping Sarah's arm, always staying within arms length of Alan and Ellie, and little things I noticed where he just reaches out for people casually and probably without even knowing it. As extroverted as Ian is, hating to be all by his lonesome, and even fearing it after the park, makes a lot of sense to me. He just seems to always want attention, Idk, let me know if you agree this this logic.  
> Please feel free to leave a comment with your suggestions, criticism, and thoughts below. I also accept requests. God bless that you always have good fanfictions to read XD. Okay, bye.


	3. Ellie Sattler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ellie has a book of jokes. It calms her down and she tries to memorize a new one every day.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies- Ellie Sattler's personality

“Ellie, what’s this?” Alan asked the blonde. His eyes were peering at the fat book on the coffee table. The book was quite elegant actually. Since she and Alan split, Ellie found herself wandering through parts of town aimlessly. She had found the book at a bookstore on fifth street. It’s bright and shiny cover matched Ellie’s optimistic personality. She leafed through the pristine pages, swallowing chortles when she chose to buy it. 

To exaggerate, the book had become something for the blonde to rely on. Whenever she woke up screaming, he would flip it open to a page and make herself laugh. She also used it to make others just as euphoric. 

“Is this a joke book?” Alan smirked at her. Seeing the playful look on his face, Ellie couldn’t deny she missed the warm and safe feeling being in his arms gave her. But things were different now. 

“Yeah. It is.” Ellie beamed. Dr. Grant chuckled, his eyes shining. “What?” She giggled.

“Nothing. It’s just very ‘you’.” Alan reached downward and picked up the fat book of jokes in his calloused palms. He sat on the sofa, propping it open on his lap. Ellie slid down next to him. 

“This is where I get all my material from.” She smiled, speaking in the low and laughing tone she was always so accustomed to using. Close enough to her to feel her body heat, Alan began to skim through the pages. About halfway through he found a bookmark pressed inside the crease. 

“So, are you just reading it?” 

“No,” Ellie laughed, thinking that would’ve been silly. “I just, um,” She shrugged loosely. “Try to memorize a new one every night. It’s a little silly.” 

“Well, I, for one, love your jokes.” Alan chuckled in the bland way he always did. So Ellie didn’t stop. Having the jokes and puns in her head lifted her spirits more than when her mind was filled with nightmares. 

Kids loved when she told jokes; Alan and Ian did too. Although optimistic as she was, Ellie didn’t necessarily need the extra positivity, she wanted it. If she had the occasional panic attack, she’d recite the words to herself like a mantra and find new ones after nightmares. She loved making others happy so nothing reflected Ellie as much as this hobby of hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty fluffy actually. It's a little short but it sure was fun to think about. Let me know if this headcanon is in character because I think it's possible I got a little carried away. LOL  
> I hope you enjoyed this. God bless and have a shippy day.


	4. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: All of Ian's previous marriages were with women he really loved and worked for but they all failed and broke his heart. So, he jokes and pretends he's okay with it and that it's a lifestyle choice. Because of all the heartbreak, he has become more of a playboy and has trust issues; abandonment is one of the few things that can shatter him.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies-"Future ex-Mrs. Malcolm" scene

“I’m always on the lookout for a future ex-Mrs. Malcolm.” As he uttered the words, Malcolm swallowed hard. Despite the playboy nature of his comment, Ian’s features were drawn together in solemnity. He would prefer not to have this conversation with anyone; much less Dr. Grant who he just met a few hours ago. The guy never really said anything though. 

Malcolm would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the game of switching from lover to lover and being able to say he dated as many women as he had. However, marriage was something entirely different. Although having multiple ex-wives complimented his style of dating, he didn’t fully want to say he was a divorcee. 

A playboy lifestyle was enjoyable but occasionally he would find a woman he chose to really, truly, love. Enough he’d promise to love her, only her, forever. 

Dr. Malcolm values honesty and truth above many things and they were high up on his moral code. He knew he was unreliable but he tried not to be; he simply always failed. He didn’t want to break his vows but it just happened. The unpredictability of chaos theory applies to human nature as well. 

Ian had married his first wife practically the first day out of college. He was sick with love and they took things way too fast. He was a father before their first anniversary. She complained about the pace, claiming she wasn’t thinking straight and then that was it. He really didn’t want to be divorced this early in his life but he didn’t have much say. It was completely out of the blue.

His second wife, Kelly’s mother was sweet and intelligent, but her worst trait was her selfishness. She cared more about her hopes and dreams then she did for a life with Ian or even Kelly. His daughter deserved better. Her mother always wanted to see the world and travel. It wasn’t long before she viewed them both as an obstacle. Her husband and daughter became something to remove to reach her goals. 

The last woman he truly loved he was very careful with. By then, he figured he was probably just cursed; never to succeed in flawless love. He made sure this time to do everything right. They discussed every possibility beforehand and took things as slowly as need be. Guarding his heart, he didn’t mean to fall as in love with her as he did. A few years and a son later, she left him in the middle of the night. For two weeks he didn’t even know what happened. For two weeks he had to answer to his toddler where mama was. The police located her a few days before he received the divorce papers in the mail. 

Yeah, Ian’s had his heart broken too many times. From then on, any romantic relationship he had didn’t mean anything. Besides, he could never trust the kind words anymore; the ones promising that she loved him or that she’d stay. His reputation involving so many women allowed the divorces to fall into his character. 

Pretending his heartbreak was a lifestyle choice was easier than accepting that he’d been hurt. He had never loved anyone besides his children again. He only prayed that they wouldn’t abandon him too. 

Shaking off his thoughts of his distrustfulness, Ian chuckled. He laughed as though he wasn’t being serious. Malcolm turned to face Dr. Grant looking for whatever his reaction could be. The paleontologist gave a look of acknowledgment, but his face displayed every feeling of disapprobation that Ian still felt for himself. He continued fiddling with his flask, pressing out his haunting thoughts from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you think this is a stretch but I think this is very acceptable. Like, have you seen the somber look on his face when he was telling Alan about his love life?! And with Sarah, he literally risked his life for her and was clearly thinking of their relationship as a serious one. ("Just because I got used to being apart doesn't mean that's how I want to, uh, live.")  
> Feel free to leave comments, criticism, questions, and suggestions/requests! See ya tomorrow and God bless.


	5. Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Alan’s father didn’t have a large part in his life and left him to have to constantly care for his younger siblings. This made him think he could never be a good father himself and played a part in him not liking kids.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies- "Did your dad ever build you a treehouse, Tim?' 'no.' 'me too." and Alan's dislike of children.

Alan Grant rolled over in bed. He could hear his little sister crying again and boy, was she loud! The teenager glanced at his watch on the nightstand which lay on top of his paleontology book. It was a little past 11 PM so his mother wouldn’t be home from work yet. She often had to work extra late to support them. He knew his father wouldn’t be home. He almost never was. He was always on business trips or, usually, out with his friends. That left Alan in charge.

He was the oldest child in a large family which meant he was usually the understudy for his parents. Grant groaned as he rolled out of bed, the cold night air bit at his feet. He hated that he had to be the one in charge. He longed for the opportunity to be left alone to do his own thing in a vast, desolate space. He was denied the luxury though because he was needed here. He was needed to be in control of his kid siblings and to be honest, it was the worst. They didn’t understand anything that was happening, they cried, he had to chase after them, and they were the reason his mother was overworked until midnight. He did love them though, after all, they were his siblings and responsibility. 

Rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes, Alan stumbled down the hall. When he emerged into one of the bedrooms, the room with the youngest ones, the nightlight forced him to squint. Sitting up in her crib, his baby sister continues to wail. Alan’s little brother is clamping his pillow over his head at the noise.  
“Okay, that’s enough of that.” The high-schooler grumbled as he reached down into the crib. In a single motion, he scooped the little girl into his arms. Her screaming intensified so close to his ear. Patting a hand on the baby’s back, Alan shushed her calmly. He shot a glance over the bars and saw her bottle was still full, she didn’t smell either; the baby must’ve had a bad dream. 

Bouncing her lightly in his arms, Alan continued to shush his baby sister. His eyes burned when he blinked, beckoning him back to bed. The little girl’s sobs lulled themselves to whimpers. The noise muffled against the plaid of her brother’s pajamas. “Shh. It’s okay.” He muttered as she began to make hiccupping noises. He continued patting her small back.

Suddenly, the child let out a large belch. Alan felt something warm and sticky on his neck. Throwing his head back, he groaned. “Lovely.” He grunted, placing the girl back into her cradle, not caring if she slept as long as she was quiet.

“What’s lovely?” A small voice questioned causing Grant to turn and face his little brother. Sparing a glance at the spit-up on his shoulder, Alan shook his head.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.” Eager to change his shirt, he set a brisk pace for the doorway.

“Is mama home?” The little voice proceeded. Alan turned back around.

“No, she is not. Go to sleep.” He waved off.

“Is daddy home?”

“No. Come on,” Alan groaned before pointing at his little brother. “Bed! Now!” Firmly shutting the door against any other conversation, the teenager slumped against the door. Despite the bile on his shirt, almost touching his neck, he took a moment, staring out the window. His parents were never home and there was such a thing as too much time with little kids. 

Alan didn’t want to have kids in his future, he already decided that. He’s had enough of them to last a lifetime. Besides, how could he possibly ever be a father when he didn’t have one around much to look up to. Besides, he couldn’t see himself living the same life in 20 years as he lived now. That wouldn’t really be an improvement; Alan liked being able to see his progress in things. In his future, he could see himself doing what he loved without many people around that he had to talk to. He would be in a secluded area and the only company would be people he was comfortable with. 

Grant launched himself off of the door, making his way to the bathroom to remove the gunk. No, a stolen childhood of parenting was quite enough time being around children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY ALAN! XD  
> If you have a headcanon you want me to make a one-shot just let me know and I will. Also, let me know if there is a specific character you wanna see and I will post one of my headcanons for them instead of the order I have the one-shots in now.  
> Anything you ever say in the comments will be appreciated and have a great day, :)


	6. Billy Brennan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Billy can’t stand anyone touching him or physical contact of any kind. Alan is the only one that can but he never does so without warning. He also refuses to enter any body of water.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park 3- Billy's character and a kinda fluffy pal-ship prompt I found.

Wringing his hands in his lap, he didn’t want to be here. Billy knew that for sure. Makes sense that the thing to lure him away from the dig site being Dr. Grant. Alan hated social situations and he could probably see Billy start to turn that way. That’s why he’d insisted Billy to go after the younger man was invited to the beach by a few of his companions on the dig site. 

The day he was leaving, packed and holding a phony smile, Grant apologized for encouraging him to go because he didn’t want him to feel pressured. Billy doesn’t swim anymore- not for a million bucks. However, he went anyway. He wanted to believe that he could be the same as he used to be. So he planned his weekend as such. He wanted to play volleyball with the guys, get a tan, and flirt with the girls. Every time he thought of entering the water, though, the memories resurfaced. The memories of water scalding all the way down his throat, claws ripping through his flesh.

Everyone piled out of the car. It was a convertible and the rush of air nipping at Billy’s ears helped calm his nerves all the way here. Sitting in the back, no one beside him, he was the last to get out. About a year since Sorna, he hasn’t been to any social outings although he always was more extroverted. That reason alone is why he didn’t want his fear to cripple him. 

In a simple matter of minutes, all the umbrellas, towels, sunblock, volleyballs, and extra swimsuits were unloaded from the trunk. Billy made sure to keep his distance throughout the chaos of unpacking so he couldn’t be shoved around. He hated to be touched ever since Sorna. This only pertained to his back and shoulders since that’s where his scars were. Only Alan could touch him without invoking a panic attack. 

He did have scars of course. They outlined the areas on his skin that had been pierced. They covered up the places where blood had flowed out so fast, staining the water. He could even taste it as his lungs clenched with the need to breathe, it was horrible. He barely wanted to have to look at the marks on his skin himself, much less let every beach-goer see those brands. Those brands marked him-what? An idiot? A terrible friend? Naïve? All three?

He wore a pale blue T-shirt and a pair of khakis over his swim shorts, which we wore just in case. His sunglasses were actually Alan’s though since he couldn’t find his. Two other guys were coming with and three girls. He knew all of them, some more closely than others. As a group, they all thump onto the sand and Billy can feel the grains beneath his flip flops. 

As he hoped, the fun increased with the heat. As the day grew older he was happy to have gone. He gets his butt kicked in a game of boys vs girls volleyball, they all goof off in the sand, and he helped bury one of the guys. However, as soon as the water warmed that’s all anyone else wanted to do. Biting his lip, Billy shuffles his feet in the sand while they all begin to rush to the waves to meet where one of the girls stood, her fingers feeling the temperature of the water. 

A few feet away, one of Billy’s friends, Chase, pauses. “Billy, you coming?” His head snaps up but he continues to toe at the grains below him, hands in his pockets. 

“Nah, I’m good. Warmer out of the water anyway.” He replies.

“Oh, okay.” Billy doesn’t move at first. He just stands there and watches as his friends splash into the tide. Chase embraces his girlfriend warmly, and they almost collapse back in the waves. Billy Brennan feels torn. On one hand, are his friends and a good time but that would involve entering the water. The thought of doing that caused a shudder to run down his spine. Every time he thought of it he felt searing pain and tasted blood. 

“Maybe,” He mumbles, inaudible to anyone but himself. “Alan was right and I shou-” Shocks jolted down his left shoulder causing Billy to holler out intelligibly. He leaps away, scrambling to the side. “Don’t touch me.” He breaths, panting. With his arms slightly spread out and his finger splayed, Billy focuses on controlling the rate of his heart and breaths. He can hear a muffled voice coming into focus. 

“I’m sorry, Billy. I-I’m sorry.” He glances up and sees one of the girls that went with them, Riley, who was tapping on his shoulder. Letting off a shudder, he wraps his arms across his chest, as though hugging himself. Riley’s eyes are wide with concern but Billy figures he probably freaked her out. 

“No, it’s fine.” He pants, swallowing hard. “You didn’t know.” He trains his gaze at the ground while he calms his body down. 

“Oh, okay.” She pauses, his heart thundering. “I was just going to tell you about something we could do since we aren’t swimming.” He snaps his head up, brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to join them?”

“No,” She smirks a little, though grim. “Last time I visited the ocean, I got stung by a jellyfish. It wasn’t a super dangerous one though.” Her eyes dart down towards her arm before meeting his. Her face lit up. “When I was little I once found a dead fish, too,” Billy smirks back at her, chuckling.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Riley’s eyes squint as she laughs, remembering the event. “ I was like 5. It floated right in front of me. Bumped against my arm actually. It scared the crap out of me.” The man across from her snorted, grateful to not be alone while everyone else went swimming. His brows raise.

“I feel bad for the fish.”

“I do too.” She agrees before starting to flap her arms around to demonstrate her next sentence. “I freaked out.” 

“I would’ve as well.” 

“I just have bad luck with beaches. Stepped on more shards of shells and gotten more sunburns than I can count.” On that note, Riley darts her eyes to the umbrellas and towels that don their area. Unspoken, they agree to move their conversation there. The sand gets less damp beneath Billy’s bare feet as they near the spot. Each person has two towels; one laid out on the sand to sit on and one rolled on top of that. Brennan plops down on his at the end of the row. Riley sits beside him, folding her legs beneath her. They continue their conversation. Billy picks at the grains with his fingers.

“Yeah, the last time I was in the water,” he swallowed hard, forcing away the emotions and memories. “it didn’t end well so, I’m not feeling so hot about swimming anymore.” He goes quiet but only for a second. “So, what was your idea then?” Beaming at her friend, Riley’s eyes sparkle mischievously.

“Every dug a hole beneath someone’s towel before? It’ll be the best when he sits on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I think Billy is better than I give him credit for.  
> As per request, tomorrow's HC will be about Lex and Tim, I am just not posting it today because I already finished this one and I'm afraid I'm gonna forget to post it at all.  
> I know this was pretty full of nameless characters/OCs but I wanted some fluff and such.  
> Hope you enjoyed! :D


	7. Lex Murphy (+Tim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Lex always puts herself aside for Tim. She became overprotective after Jurassic Park and felt bad for not thinking herself brave on the island.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies- Lex and Tim's connection.

The teenager shrieked. As soon as her eyes popped open though, she cut off the sound. The nightlight gleamed from a corner of the room, casting an eerie glow onto the mere possessions she had at her Dad’s house. Shuddering, Lex tucked the quilt tighter underneath her chin. She could still feel the mud seeping into the car, see her brother’s electrified body, and hear the screeches of the raptors. She hated them. The Murphys hadn’t been to a museum since 1993 and she’d prefer they keep it that way. 

Lex sniffed and felt her cheeks grow icy from the air conditioner, causing her to notice the tear tracks down her face. She swallowed hard. She wanted to cry. The blonde wanted to sob her eyes out but she feared then she’d never stop; cursed to weep for eternity like a Greek myth. She cried too much and tried to be strong.  
She felt her life, the one she almost lost, was whizzing past her at an incredible speed. Her parents fighting, going to the park, the hospital, the nightmares, the divorce, the panic attacks, losing her friends, San Diego, and now losing her grandfather. It was all going way too fast. Deep down, she was still 12 and afraid, despite all this. Tim didn’t need to know that though. It had been a month since the San Diego Incident that had worsened her mental state. Seeing the Rex on television that night made her feel like she had been punched in the gut. The first thing she did after that was find Tim and cuddle him in her arms. Her brother was all that mattered. 

Tim was actually getting better. She managed to convince her dad, her mom refused, to get them therapy. Yep, Tim was getting better and Lex was getting along. After 1993, she felt a change inside of herself before she felt her PTSD. She had definitely changed. She now let herself fall into the background, be the one consistent factor in Tim’s life, and she was calmer; more mature actually. She felt like she had grown 20 years older on that island and left her classmates behind. They were so petty honestly. While Lex was off fighting for her life, they were warm and safe in their homes complaining about drama and boys like it was the end of the world. News flash: it’s not. She was going through the end of HER world, watching Tim’s limp form fly from the fence and into the dirt. 

The friends of hers she still found tolerable didn’t understand how different she was now. They didn’t know what to do as she had anxiety attacks at school or flashbacks in the lunchroom. Lex wasn’t entirely alone though. She made friends with a girl named Anna a few months ago. Her hair was dyed blue at the tips and she was energetic and positive. Anna had anxiety and they always calmed each other down during panic attacks. 

Lex felt less lonely too with the adults she met on the island. Her parents were hesitant to let her and Tim hang out with three strange academics from time to time but the therapist had actually recommended it. Spending time with each of those adults she called her friends felt different. Dr. Grant brought a sense of protection and security to her. Dr. Sattler was her hero. She wanted to be just like her and always turned to her fellow blonde for advice. Lex found herself relating to Dr. Malcolm in an unlikely friendship, talking to him put her in a playful mood. She hadn’t gotten to see any of them for years before San Diego though. 

Swallowing the last of her sorrow, the blonde gave her bedroom one final scan in paranoia. Out of the blue, she heard a whimpering noise. It reminded her of a kicked puppy and it was coming from the other side of the wall. “Timmy.” She whispered, eyes widening. Still sitting in her own sweat, Lex peels the sheets away from her skin. Her heart rate quickens once again. “Timmy.” She breathes, pacing to the door. 

In a matter of seconds, the older sister has flung open the door to her little brother’s bedroom and she rushes to his side. Tiny Tim quivers in his sleep, his lips moving as he mumbles. His brows are pressed together in an expression too mature for his age. He has grown up faster than he should’ve too. Lex squats beside the bed where he lays on his side, his youthful face is inches from hers. Tentatively, the blonde lays one of her hands on his head and begins shushing him. “Tim, it’s alright. It’s just a dream. I’m here.” She lulls, swiping her fingers through his hair. His expression softens. “I got you. You are safe, Tim.” 

“Lexie?” His lips barely part as he mutters, still asleep. She shushes him. 

“Yes, Timmy. It’s Lex. Don’t be afraid of sleep. I’m here.” His eyelids flutter before Tim’s muscles relax, showing his tranquility. Lex wants to sing to him as she did in the hospital when he needed to be checked for his electrocution. They were separated from everyone they knew there. Grandpa didn’t visit due to his newfound financial issues. Dr. Grant visited them in the children’s ward though, pushing Ellie in a wheelchair. Ian Malcolm was too injured to go anywhere so they all met in his room a couple of times. Soon, Lex and Tim’s parents arrived and they were free. But it was still lonely and scary. 

Deciding against singing to her baby brother, Lex leans forward and plants a kiss on his damp forehead. She tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I love you, Timmy.” She whispers, knowing he cannot hear. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.” 

Knowing she made Timmy feel better, Lex could rest well once she reentered her room. For the time being, Tim was her top priority. They were going through more than most and all they had was each other. Protecting him could make up for all her screaming at the park. On the perimeter fence, she lost him for only a few seconds and she would never lose him again. No one would ever have to worry about losing Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a Headcanon I have for Lex and kinda for Tim too. Someone asked for a HC for Lex and Tim so I gave this one.   
> Hope you enjoyed and God bless!


	8. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ian still needs pain meds from time to time from his frequent leg pains. He limps all the time.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park books and movies.

Ian Malcolm breathed deeply and rolled over in bed again. Tossing and turning, he couldn’t make himself sleep. Perhaps it was the bedroom itself; for over half a decade this room had been the residing place of his fears that would cause him to still wake up screaming until his voice went hoarse. He was afraid now that if he slept he’d dream. He was afraid Kelly in the next room would hear and if she had a nightmare he’d need to be in a state of mind to help. Besides, he was in too much pain to sleep. 

With a groan, Malcolm sat up in bed. After rubbing the burn of sleep-deprivation from his eyes, Ian slid his legs off the side of the mattress so he sat on the edge. His legs were long enough for his feet to touch the ground. The clock on the nightstand said it was far past midnight. Ian could never sleep. 

This close to the holidays and with the chillier weather, he should’ve been cold wearing only his boxers and an old t-shirt, but Texas temperatures held out warmer than most places. That’s what Kelly and he had been doing yesterday; preparing for the holidays. Even though he told her she didn’t have to, his daughter always wanted to buy gifts for her step-siblings. They had a lot of errands to run and that meant a whole lot of walking. Walking, standing, driving, and motion. Ian’s leg smarted. 

He had spent the majority of their shopping day limping. His leg often caused him a great deal of pain but he was too prideful to admit defeat to it. The aches started behind his knee and trailed out from there down his shin and up his thigh. His limp was more a cause of the reoccurring pain than the old wound itself, seeing that it only made an appearance when he was in pain. He hated when people took notice of it and it made him feel underestimated. Anyone outright pretending they didn’t see it was just as bad as asking if he was alright- to which he’d always give a gravelly yes. 

For the time when Dr. Malcolm was denied rights with Kelly, a few months after Sorna, her mother was so furious. One of the things she yelled at him was that he had a gimpy leg. And it made him unfit to watch over Kelly. He adored his children. The idea of not being able to be there for them or losing them was unthinkable. 

Ian runs his fingers over one of his scars on his knee in an attempt to massage the pain away. He tried to avoid the painkillers whenever necessary because he doesn’t want to have to depend on anything. With the aches from the day’s excursion inhibiting him from sleep, he winced. 

The discomfort brought back memories from when he first got this injury. It actually reminded him of Sorna too because of the level of pain he had been in there. They had to walk for days and scarcely took brakes. He felt bad for Kelly who had to exert herself as much as the adults. She wanted him to carry her and it broke his heart to tell her he couldn’t even if he tried. What he didn’t tell her was he was steps from collapse himself. Always steps from collapse. 

Gritting his teeth, Malcolm heaved himself off of the bed. He focused most of his weight on his good leg, his right, as he proceeded to exit the room. He passed the open door to the bedroom Kelly resided in. Her nightmares were lessening, thank God. Clenching his jaw from the pain, Ian made it to the bathroom. He flicked the lights on. Sparing himself a peek in the mirror, he slid open the medicine cabinet. 

He scanned the residents of the cabinet, leg still aching. He was given prescribed painkillers specifically for this purpose. However, he regarded the pills with disdain. Admitting he was in too much pain to handle himself felt like giving in. Or maybe he was just being petty. The cabinet also had a bottle of Advil and he thought about that a moment longer. He had definitely done way too much walking today. 

He could see himself giving in, taking the painkillers and being able to fall asleep only to wake up bellowing anyway. Ian could imagine going Kelly’s room afterward and reassuring her everything was fine and he just had a bad dream. It didn’t really matter if he had his pain taken or not. He shook his head, thinking nothing he did ever mattered. 

Staring into the medicine cabinet, Malcolm could still feel the soreness of the crutches under his armpits from the times he’d been here before. The pressure of the hinged knee brace hugging his whole leg was fresh from his memory too. With a sigh, Dr. Malcolm closes the cabinet, wishing he wasn’t so paranoid and proud and could just accept any form of help. 

Ian clicked the lights off on his way out, as he limped back to his bedroom. This pain was familiar and years old. It was something he might be able to think consistent. He’s had this pain and limp since 1993, and it was here to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh.  
> I thought this one was pretty important and relevant though. I can honestly see this as a canon thing especially with The Lost World novel, Idk.  
> I am still open for requests of one-shotting your HCs and posting one of mine if you wish me to.  
> Hope you have a good night and day and God bless.


	9. Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Alan is a great artist; his introverted self loves drawing! He also uses it to cope.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park book and JP movie- “but yours was fully illustrated.”

It had started with a box of crayons given to the toddler. Coloring books soon followed; pictures of animals and dinosaurs made of nothing but outlines. Alan spent most of his time while he was little, bringing those pictures to life. “Mommy,” He held up a coloring book full of dinosaurs in his chubby fist, holding it out. “what are these animals again?”

“Those are dinosaurs, Alan.” She explained, squatting next to her 5-year-old. “They aren’t around anymore.”

“Good.” Alan resumed coloring, splashing inks of red onto the triceratops. He loved those; the pages of them were the ones he colored first and after he would have his mom tape them to the bedroom wall. The colorful dinosaurs hung on his headboard and around the room. Alan would chatter about how they were his favorite while his mother tucked him in.

“How is that good, honey?” Without a second’s hesitation, her son responded plainly.

“Some of them are scary.”

Drawing had been Alan Grant’s thing since he’d been little. He wasn’t bad at it either. Despite the praise from his family and friends, he didn’t think much of it. Alan didn’t have many friends growing up but he didn’t mind. Talking to people was intimidating and exhausting. Drawing was his outlet.

In elementary school, he would sit on the swings, or on the curb by the grass, or underneath the play structure at recess by himself. He never felt lonely though. Alan was perfectly content with nothing but a pencil and a notebook. By high school, he had chosen art for one of his electives, even though his parents didn’t approve. In all of his educational career, he would sit alone at lunch with his sketchbook of the day. Filled notebooks were tucked away underneath his bed where no one else could mess with them.

He had a few friends. He sometimes drew what they asked him to because he cared. They praised his detailed images- even though he preferred they wouldn’t. Alan always met them from when they would be the ones to approach him, shy in the corner. He never was the first to talk. “Whatcha writing?”

“I’m not writing, it’s a picture.” He shut his notebook and pressed it to his chest. The pencil marked the page.

“Can I see?”

“Nope.”

Sometimes he drew other people or objects but he usually sketched out living creatures. Animals, fish, dinosaurs, and monsters from mythology. Satyrs and Stegosauruses and lions made of lead and sprinkled with eraser shavings. Grant didn’t ever use color in his illustrations. He thought that it took away from the photograph he already saw as sufficient; If it ain't broke, don’t fix it.

During lectures at college, working to earn his degree in paleontology, he doodled on his notes. In the margins of the college ruled sheets were pencil markings shaped into fossils, gastroliths, birds, and anything that came to mind. Grant did this on the backs of his tests too. If he finished his final exam sheet before everyone else did, and they weren’t being handed in yet, he would sketch out whatever dinosaur he was thinking of. There were a lot of triceratopses.

On the various dig sites he'd worked at, Alan sketched out the finds of the day. After everyone else had retired for the day, he would sit by the newest skeleton with a notebook in his lap. He'd prefer if less people noticed when he drew so sometimes he'd sneak off to do it alone. Sometimes miles away, Alan would retreat to where it was quiet to sketch out sunsets and prairie grasses and clouds. During this time where he gained more and more respect from other paleontologists, his notebooks differed, portraying images that conveyed desolation and peace. Alan remembered these younger years as a very peaceful and enjoyable time in his life.

Dr. Ellie Sattler was one of the first people he had drawn. After she joined the dig site, Dr. Grant had been doing paperwork in his office once and with the sun shining in her hair, Ellie looked so radiant. Peering through the window of the trailer, he found himself flipping over the scratch paper he had been using to count funds, and drew her. On the page he gave her the wide smile she never let fade, wisps of blonde locks flowing in the breeze, and her thin yet strong frame, but he didn’t think her eyes looked right. Ellie Sattler had a shine in her smile and sparkle in her eyes he couldn’t replicate no matter how hard he tried.

That first drawing of her he ended up shoving into his pocket. From then on and through their relationship, Alan sketched her a lot. He showed them to her on occasion. The depictions were never demeaning or made out of a place of desire but out of affection. He always had drawn what he loved and falling in love with Dr. Sattler meant she had made more and more frequent appearances in Alan’s notebooks.

Having grown in fame in his field, Dr. Grant published a book. It was about dinosaurs and paleontology of course. The book wasn’t large but was fully illustrated. He had done the black and white pictures himself. One of his friends, Micheal Backes, was trusted to help him with the book and the foreword was written by Sir Richard Attenborough. But it was his book nonetheless. “Dinosaur Detectives, written and illustrated by Dr. Alan Grant.”

After Jurassic Park, his pictures weren’t as lighthearted. Upon waking from nightmares, Alan sometimes scared himself with the images that would show up in his papers. He drew velociraptors with bloodstained teeth, chunks of flesh stringing down in an attempt to put a visual on their rotten breath. He drew the Rex, in all her glory, splashing through the mud. Like with Ellie, her eyes never looked right either. A couple times Alan would draw exactly what he dreamed of. It was the visual reality of his nightmares and it was terrible. There was no way he would ever let anyone see those. Alan threw out his own artwork for the first time and it soon became a habit.

Dr. Grant also drew more of people after the park and he would always do so at night. When he should’ve been dozing he stayed up, scribbling out the horrors. He drew Lex and Tim, their faces streaked with mud. He drew Malcolm, bloody and dying. His depictions of Hammond showed him as more of an executioner than a loving grandfather. He refused to create images Ellie anymore because he didn’t want to see her broken.

She left him though. Alan’s beloved Dr. Sattler was gone from his life. That was when he began drawing her again. He did it viciously as though he needed to make as many photographs of her as possible before he forgot what she looked like. He would never forget.

After they split, he stopped throwing out his violent drawings. Instead, he tucked them all in a locked box, even the goriest ones, only for his eyes. Having lost her, Dr. Grant’s images of Ellie were bluer than they used to be. He drew her weeping and with torn clothing and sweat on her brow; he drew her as she looked in the park.

The San Diego incident happened. Alan watched the ordeal on TV. Drawings of leveled cities, mutilated crowds, and even Malcolm in various stages of death joined the box and were locked away for eternity.

Upon meeting Billy, Alan began to sketch his protégé too. If Billy caught him doing so, he’d always strike a pose, just to mess with him. From time to time Alan would allow Billy's pictures to be in dramatic positions. It took him Isla Sorna to stop drawing people entirely. After completing a couple of depictions featuring an injured Billy, he refused to do humans. Drawing dinosaurs wasn't much better though because it was usually Raptors. Always Raptors. Raptors and their eggs.

By 2018 and the outbreak, he didn’t care anymore. With the dinosaur outbreak, he had bigger fish to fry. Dr. Grant created whatever he was thinking about. He constructed visuals of the dinosaurs around the Statue of Liberty, Eiffel Tower, pyramids of Egypt and the White House. Following night terrors, sketches of the kids, Ian, Billy, and Ellie being chased were brought into existence. Those joined the box of his worst depictions. The box was unlocked more and more frequently. Alan watched it get fuller and fuller. Until finally, it overflowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO PROUD of this one XD. I loved writing this one-shot sssoooo much. Apparently, Alan angst is enjoyable.  
> I really hope you enjoyed this because I did lol. I love Alan. I say I love the characters a lot actually lol. Ian is my favorite tho which explains the excess of HCs for him. lol.  
> I love ya'll, hope you have a good day, feel free to leave requests.


	10. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ian has nightmares a lot. Not only when the park or dinosaurs are brought up in the news or media either. If he is in an upset mood when he fall asleep or has a bad day, he will have nightmares about his experiences since the feelings of despair are so tightly linked to the islands for him.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies

It was a bad day grown into an even worse night. Every time he was feeling down, quite often actually, Ian had his horrible dreams. He had learned over the years not to fall asleep in a bad mood. Nevertheless, he might still end up in terror anyway. This happened most nights. 

Ian never slept in his bedroom anymore. He hated his bedroom. He hated the mattress of his bed, the headboard, nightstand, and every scrap of clothing thrown about. There were too many bad experiences in that bed than good ones. Too much negativity had occurred there for him to possibly find it a relaxing place to be.

That grey-sheeted bed was the same one he would wake up screaming in. Ian cried out so much his voice would grow hoarse. It would sound thick and scratchy the next day. He would wake up, thrashing at empty air, fists flying out as though in self defense. He never let his kids sleep in bed with him in fear of hitting or scaring them. His stomach would be churning and his heart would be racing. More times than he was comfortable with, Malcolm would be so worked up he made himself sick. He usually made it to the toilet before he barfed. 

Sitting in his own cold sweat, that’s when the trembling would begin as the memories returned. If the nightmare had been about himself, he’d run his hands over his body to reassure himself the wounds weren’t there. Most of the time though the horrors were centered around his kids, Alan and Ellie, or Sarah. In which case, the most Ian could do was wipe the tears from his cheeks and maybe give them a call to make sure they were still breathing. 

After such terrors, he would want to be as far away as possible. So, soaked in sweat and wearing nothing but his boxers, he’d trudge to the living room with a blanket or two and collapse on the couch. Sometimes he would make coffee, no matter what time it was, just to stay awake.

Eventually he gave up on sleeping altogether. The nightmares were too common and too easily brought on. Simple leg pain or a bad mood shouldn’t make it this much worse. Dr. Malcolm figured the connection was probably psychological and in his control. Nothing upset him more than those islands so it only made sense he’d dream of them after an upsetting day.

In the meantime, Ian Malcolm would do anything he could to keep his mind awake. He’d grade papers and work on equations until the only writing surface was on his arms, which he the flooded with ink. He watched television, messed around on the internet, or read books. The lights would stay on to minimize the chance of falling asleep. He would doze off though. It just would be around four AM and only a couple hours before his first class. He got more rest in the summer.

Ian’s body began to find rest in the most oddest of places where he had been trying to evade it. When he woke up he’d find himself slumped over on the desk, curled at the bottom of the stairs, or even sprawled out on the kitchen counter. So many places meant that if he was ripped from sleep due to fear in one location, there would always be others. That way, certain places of the house wouldn’t become as poisoned at the bedroom. 

When his kids visited he simply didn’t sleep at all. He didn’t want to scare them with his shouts. One of the things he was most afraid of was clobbering one of them due to his flailing while asleep. Malcolm just wouldn’t let that happen. So, for their sakes, he wouldn’t get one minute of rest until their mothers picked them up again. 

His neighbors in the apartment building probably hated him. A few of them had actually come to Malcolm’s door, that late of the night, to tell him to shut up and he kept waking them up. That was always humiliating. 

Ian was always tired but refused to rest. Sleep brought back his fear, as fresh in his mind as the day it had been engraved. Reliving it wasn’t an option so he lived with the dark circles under his eyes, yawning, and careless mistakes. He preferred his sadness over his terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah these are angsty and shall continue to be for a while. Sorry.  
> I think this really works though and was pretty solid. anyway. hope you enjoyed!


	11. Owen Grady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hedcanon: Owen joined the navy to pay for his college and ended up leaving because he didn't follow orders.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic World- Owen's character (and a little from "it's messy to have other people in your life."

Money was tight growing up. Money was tight and independence was necessary. His entire life, Owen Grady was an animal lover. He was a zoo kid, even though he only got to go a couple times. He knew he always wanted to do something relating to them in his future, if it was the last thing he did. 

However, any career path he had in mind that he wanted would require degrees. Degrees required college. College required money. The Grady family didn’t have much money. Between around 4 jobs both his parents shared, worrying about paying bills was more relevant than worrying about his future. However, Owen was stubborn and what he wanted was an animal career. 

Grady tried raising the money himself. There was a tiny issue though of college being a bazillion dollars. His stubborn attitude never would let him give up his dream, no matter what, the problem of money was a set back. Owen set his will in stone and would do whatever it took to make sure it happened. 

He worked multiple jobs over his time in high school. Owen barely remembered to make time for learning to drive, he was so busy. He spent time working in a movie theater, restaurant, ice cream parlor, and even washed cars. Although he got fired from so many, his bank account crept up. It still felt like his dreams were so far from reach. He barely slept trying to make time to make money, learn to drive, and study for his classes. In all his classes, he hadn’t turned in a truckload of homework. 

However, his plans went crumbling down in a matter of months. Owen still remembers where he was when he heard. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, barefoot while studying for the SATs. The landline rang so he trudged to pick up the phone. The voice on the other end of the line was his mother’s. She was choked with tears. Her words were audible and unintelligible at the same time. And they stung. “Owen. There was a car accident.” Ears ringing, Owen had felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. 

His little sister, an eighth grader, had been the victim. She hit her head on the dashboard and was in a coma. Owen poured all his savings into the hospital so the rest of his family could still have food on the table. As he tried for more jobs, his grades plummeted. His dreams for a scholarship and college faded. His dreams were replaced with an opportunity to speak with his sister again. 

Grady’s wish was granted. Almost exactly one year after her hospitalization, his baby sister woke up. Her vision would be funny for the rest of her life but she was alive. Alive and living. Owen Grady felt forever in debt to whoever was responsible for the miracle. 

Soon it became apparent his sister didn’t feel the same. A year or so after she was released, she became bitter. About losing a year of her life, about having impaired vision, and was ungrateful in general. Still, Owen didn’t regret a thing. He’d spend every penny of his college fund again for her. He didn’t know in the future she’d practically disown all of them and run off. 

In the meantime, the money was gone and Owen Grady was in his senior year of high school. His visions of a bright future faded to dreams and nothing more. He tried to gain enough money as he once had but he was so terrible at keeping jobs. His bosses never stopped chastising him about his independence and thick-headedness. 

There was one possibility, though. Around halfway through his senior year, Owen Grady agreed to join the US navy. His father had fought in Vietnam, and was his hero. That was before his parents divorced anyway. Joining the navy would pay for his college and complimented his braver nature. 

During his time serving his country, Owen never felt quite in his place. Although he made an excellent soldier, he had difficulty following orders. Story of Owen’s life; his way or the highway. His commanding officers did not appreciate this. He was given lots of discipline. 

It was a miracle he even made it through training. Grady didn’t have a while lot of friends in the navy but he made one. Barry Sembene. Barry was a hard worker and the one friendly face that got Owen through the most grueling days. 

It was going to pay for his college but it wasn’t what he was meant to do. One day there was an announcement that Owen found quite peculiar. The message came with a bit dinosaur logo that was famous across every news stations. Project I.B.R.I.S. Project IBRIS at Jurassic World. Owen didn’t hesitate in signing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's June 11th JURASSIC PARK 26th ANNIVERSARY YAY! And tomorrow is Jurassic World's anniversary too! Horray for Jurassic June!!  
> Here is my first HC for a character from the new trilogy who I NEVER give enough love to.   
> Anyway, have a nice day and stuff sooooo yeah, feel free to comment whatever you're thinkin'  
> Adios!


	12. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Not only does Ian have scars all over his knee, thigh, and shin, but he also has smaller scars across his back, chest, and torso. Those are from both Sorna and Nublar.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park (*in a sarcastic voice* WHaT?! I thought this was from The hunger games. No one could guess Jurassic Park.[I think I'm funny but I'm not.])

Ian Malcolm sees his body as a map. He has so many scars that run up and down his 6 feet tall form that he reminds himself of a child’s favorite stuffed animal with patches, stitches, and tears. Ian wishes he didn’t look as battered as he did. To everyone else, he appeared physically fine. Sure, he had a limp if he exerted himself too much but nothing was too noticeable. 

When Malcolm had broken his leg, he had multiple breaks in multiple places. Flecks of bone had scattered throughout the tissue. Not only that, but his bone had been forced out through the side of his thigh, just above the knee, from the break. He nearly bled to death because of it too. It had also been enough for infection. 

Months in that Costa Rican hospital could not fix him. He was damaged. Damaged and Broken.

The severity of Malcolm’s break had been too much. Whenever he overexerted himself he limped due to the internal damage. Ian knew he had lots of metaphorical internal damage as well. 

His left leg was peppered in scarring. Along the side of his thigh and knee was the largest one, caused by the bone that exploded from his skin. There were also smaller dents of scar tissue on his calf from the surgeons. They had tried to remove the excess bone that splintered in a few of his breaks. Malcolm never wore shorts. 

His kids asked about those markings on his leg. He let them stare and run their small fingers over his knee. Malcolm told them he broke his leg and that was all. Ian’s son had kissed his knee after he saw it before asking if he made it all better. Kelly asked the most questions so she ended up knowing the most about Nublar. 

In the shower, Ian could see just how many scars he really did have. Without a shirt on, all the other ones became visible. In the park, the collapse of the bathroom brought an onslaught of debris along with it. The bits of wood, cement, and glass shredded into his body and left smaller, pinker, scars of their own. 

Sorna had also left its imprint on the mathematician it so enjoyed toying with. There was a mark on his shoulder that had been there since the trailer tipped and it’s contents rained down. The raptor chase on Isla Sorna had left Ian’s upper shoulders and back scarred from all the glass he landed on after the stupid raptor jumped at the stupid door. He’d flipped over, driving shards into his knees as well. 

Ian doesn’t want these marks on his skin. Still ridden with sleep from a nightmare, he sometimes would scrape at the tissue as though he could rip it off. The skin bunched under his nails and he would bleed. He didn’t want this constant fragile reminder of what he had been through. The scars showed that he was conquerable. They represented that he had been hurt. InGen and their stupidity had made him their victim and the marks of it would never leave his skin. 

What the scars really were was brands. He was now marked, blemished, branded. His scars were an example of what happened when someone played God. He has been branded a casualty in InGen’s sick game and it could never be forgotten. 

Dr. Malcolm had been told his scars were disturbing and secretly, he couldn’t agree more. They were the ugly residue of survival and stupidity. And they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Ian didn’t want to see them either. Sometimes he’d use Band-Aids to cover the small, worse, ones as though they were still healing. 

Sarah Harding was so kind about his scars. She understood and wasn’t put off or disturbed. Sarah ran her hands over his chest, planted kisses on his shoulders, and made sure he knew she loved him; just as he was. She loved him like this. 

Scars, he figured, were like callouses. An area repaired after being hurt. If only the wounds inside could be mended so simply. 

After a panic attack or flashback, Ian might run his fingertips over the scars. He did this as though for strength because they could be viewed both ways. On one hand, his scarring was a sign that he was weak and capable of being hurt. But aren’t all humans that vulnerable? Scars could also show not that you were damaged, but that you healed. “Yes, I got hurt, but I recovered.” They seemed to say. “I am still here despite all this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, IDK what to say. Hope you enjoy and comment and all that.


	13. Ian Malcolm and Kelly Curtis-Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: To make it up to her, since he feels so guilty, Ian spent tons of money and worked his hardest to find the best PTSD therapist for Kelly. He wanted Sarah to go too but she said she wouldn’t unless he did too. She never went.  
> Inspiration: again just Jurassic Park

Dr. Malcolm really couldn’t help himself. After Sorna and San Diego, the only thing he could feel was guilt. His ex-wife really didn’t make matters any better either. He blamed himself and so did she. Kelly’s mother was furious when she found out that Kelly had been on Sorna. Originally she had never believed him about Jurassic Park but she had called after the Rex got out in San Diego. 

One of the news channels had managed to get a clear shot or two of Malcolm and Harding when they were luring the dinosaur back to the boat. Kelly’s mother called him angry because she saw Kelly wasn’t with him. Ian thought he was going to throw up when the time came to explain it all to her. This was probably the sort of thing someone lost custody rights over and he was in agony. 

Hours after the call, Kelly’s mother had shown up at the apartment, white with rage. If Kelly wasn’t there she might’ve smacked him, he wished she would’ve hit him. He felt he deserved it. But she wasn’t physically aggressive. Instead, the pick up was a mess of chaos. She screamed at Malcolm, calling him all kinds of foul names, Kelly was crying and insisting to her mother that it wasn’t her dad’s fault, Ian couldn’t help himself but shout back. Sarah had to break up the whole thing. The fiasco ended with Kelly bring pulled out the door. Ian tried not to cry thinking he might not be able to see her again. 

Kelly’s mother did press charges and try to take her daughter from Malcolm. She probably would’ve gotten him arrested for child endangerment if she could. Luckily, the judges were merciful in ways she was not. That didn’t stop her from hating her ex-husband though. Sometimes she called him just to tell him how miserable Kelly was, about her nightmares, and panic attacks, demanding “what did you do to her!”. 

Ian Malcolm knew what it was like to suffer from PTSD as he had for the past four years. It broke his heart to even imagine Kelly feeling the same way. He already saw Sarah in the same mental state and wanted to take the pain from both of them. 

Despite her mother’s arguments, Malcolm went far and wide searching for a good therapist for Kelly. Sarah pointed out that the girl’s mother probably didn’t want Kelly getting help because then someone would know about her abandonment. Ian found quite a few therapists specializing in childhood Post Traumatic Stress for his daughter. He did background checks, read reviews, and did everything he could to make sure this would work for her. 

Malcolm made sure to pay for all the expenses the therapy would require himself. Relived the girl’s mother even allowed her to go, he didn’t complain. He wouldn’t complain since it was good for his daughter. Kelly recovered quickly. Her nightmares lessened until they were only a dull and rare occurrence for her. 

Noticing the optimism returning in her daughter, Kelly’s mother saw how the sessions were benefitting her. She didn’t fight them or Malcolm over it any longer. In fact, she did quite the opposite. Kelly’s mother made sure she never missed a session and was always on time for them. 

While Kelly improved, Ian and Sarah’s mental states remained the same. Seeing his girlfriend in such emotional torment, Ian tried to convince her to go to therapy as well. However, the redhead always refused, preferring to deal with it all herself. To get him off her back, Sarah told Malcolm that if she went then he would have to as well. After all, it’s only fair. Ian insisted he was fine and the topic was never brought up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. IDK why but I keep thinking that Ian would be super guilty after The Lost World about everything so that created this. I don't really know. Anyway, enjoy, comment and have a nice life.


	14. Kelly Curtis-Malcolm and Tim Murphy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Tim and Kelly dated for a time. (At least thats how this HC started. When I began writing it just became a little shippy thing that can be platonic or romantic. Whatever you want)  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies- Tim and Kelly ages/personalities

“What was your least favorite one?” Kelly asks, peering at the teenager next to her. She and Tim were both almost 17 years old now with Dr. Grant having gotten back from Sorna a few months ago. She returns her focus to the sidewalk. 

“The raptors probably.” Tim replies, looking over the girl a few feet away carefully. They had met a few years ago, at Hammond’s funeral. Ever since, they had made sure to keep in touch and grew closer over the years. Kelly also connected with Lex although the girl was older than her, they made good friends. Tim and Kelly had the most in common though. They liked to play pranks together sometimes. Mostly on Kelly’s father, Dr. Grant, and Dr. Sattler but they also messed with Lex. Sometimes she felt like she gained another annoying younger sibling in Kelly.

“Oh.” Kelly responded. On her bike, she makes sure not to run into Tim’s. “The rexes were the worst for me.” She lowers her voice to a mumble to herself. “I wasn’t scared of the raptors anymore after I killed one of ‘em.”

“Wait,” Tim raises his voice incredulously, having heard her. “you killed one?!” Kelly can’t choose whether to shrug or blush or smile so she does neither.

“I only did some gymnastics.” She squeaks as they get closer to Kelly’s mom’s house, he lives near to her mom. Her dad would be picking her up for the next couple weeks.

“Geez. How have you not told me about this?” She giggles.

“I didn’t think it was important, dinosaur-boy.” Having met Lex first, she heard all of her rant about Tim’s unreluctance to pursue dinosaurs despite everything. Upon meeting him, she asked if he was the dinosaur-boy and the name stuck. He called her the gymnastics-girl every now and then for revenge.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about being eaten by raptors if I have you to protect me.” Tim joked, slowing his bike to a stop as they pulled up into the lawn. Kelly did the same.

“Guess not.” She added while they both unbuckled their helmets. Upon spotting the boy’s hair, she snorted down a laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, unaware of the condition of his head.

“Your hair.” Kelly giggled behind her hand.

“What about it?” His locks stuck out in angles at the bottom of his skull. The rest of it is pressed flat.

“I think you have helmet head.” No longer hiding it, the girl chuckles fully. A little embarrassed, Tim hangs his helmet from the handle bars of his bike and starts to stroke his head. The flat parts become flatter. Kelly thinks it’s hilarious. “No you’re just making it worse. Let me help.” Laughing, the girl approaches Tim and reaches up to try and tame his hair. She begins attempting to fluff it out, running her fingers through the strands. Tim laughs playfully along.

“No. I think you are messing it up. Leave me and my hair alone.” He gasps between bouts of laughter. He wiggles, as though to escape her grasp, playfully. 

“Must look perfect.” Teases Kelly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Tim keeps playing along. 

“Unhand me or you will be tickled.” She pauses and takes a tentative step backward.

“Don’t you dare.” In a joking tone, she warns as her friend steps closer. In an almost cat-like manner, Tim lunges with his finger splayed out. Still goofing off, he begins to tickle the girl who shrieks in response. Kelly has always been very ticklish Her lips peel back in bellowing laughter that she cannot hold back. The boy smiles at the joyous ringing of the sound. As Tim’s fingers wiggle on her neck, she beats at his chest jokingly, hoping to prevent him from the playful torture. 

Writhing in laughter, Kelly folds onto the grass. She tries to force out words of plea but between the butterflies in her stomach and giggles in her throat, it is impossible. Distantly, she can hear the shutting of a door but barely between her croaks. 

“Uh, what’s happening here?” Kelly hears her father’s voice, jesting nearby. Also laughing, Tim stops ticking her as he arrives. Kelly clutches her stomach. 

“Dad, help!” She calls, giggling still. 

“Tim, what have you done to my daughter?” Dr. Malcolm jokes and Tim, sitting back on his heels beside Kelly, also can’t catch a breath. Ian grins as he approaches, one of his hands in his pocket. He waits for them to calm down a little. “Alright. I’m, uh, I’m going to need to steal Kelly back now.”

“Go right ahead.” Tim chuckles, running a hand through his hair. He wipes at the grass on his pants as he stands up, offering his hand to pull up Kelly. Malcolm raises his eyebrows in teasing and suspicion as their fingers entwine. They hold hands for a second too long. 

“All right, Kelly. Time to go.” With a nod and a smile, the girl skipped away from her friend and approached her dad. 

“You have my stuff?” She asks as they make their way to the car.

“It’s your, uh, YOUR stuff.” He points out, emphasizing the ‘your’ in his sentence. However, he nods to the duffel bag in the back. “Queen, goddess, I love you but I can’t, uh, trust you to remember to pack. Ever.” Opening the passenger door for her, Kelly shoots one last smile at Tim before sliding in. After the door is shut, Kelly releases a quiet squeal she had been holding in her chest. 

Forcing away the fluttering feeling in his gut, Tim grins down at his shoes. He watches Kelly go before hopping on his bike. He hopes to see her soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where I was going with this. When I was writing fanfic I noticed their ages were the same and my brain randomly was just thinking of them being together and Ian being protective father a such. It was just such an obscure idea though so when I started writing it the one shot ended up being more of just random fluff. So you can see this as either pal-ship or love whatever you feel like.  
> Feel free to leave reviews, requests, or whatever you want in the comments.


	15. Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Whenever Alan has a nightmare his go-to fix is taking a walk around the dig site. It grounds him in providing a visual for what is real and makes him feel less trapped.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies

Muttering in his sleep Alan Grant knows he’s dreaming. However, he doesn’t feel any less afraid. Instead, he lets the nightmare run its course. At last, Alan jerks violently and awakens. Chilled on his cot, Alan stares out at the canvas wall of his tent. His pillow is no longer under his head but clutched close to his chest and he can see his rapid breaths against the pillowcase. 

Dr. Grant can feel the cool night air creep into his bones since he is coated in a cold sweat. The nightmare had been about Lex and Tim again. Grant worried about them, and Ellie, often. Relatively, he had a lot of things and people to worry about these days but those three were the most often occurrence in his nightmares.  
Grant shakes it off. Just like he always tries to. He finds himself missing Ellie again. During the night they would keep each other up talking and it seemed to keep the terrors at bay. And when it didn’t, at least he felt better knowing she was there. Now, his Ellie was miles away and probably lost forever. Alan felt like he’d lost so much. 

He sits up. Swinging his legs over the side, he lays his elbows of them and wipes his face of with his calloused hands. Every time the wind howls outside, all Alan can hear is the screaming of the Rex and barks of the Raptors. Suddenly, he cannot stand to be in his cramped tent any longer. He needs to clear his head. 

So, Alan Grant does what he usually does. When he can’t fall asleep, usually after he was awoken already, he does the same thing as always and wanders. After he has nightmares filled with memories of horror, sometimes the lines between reality and memory become blurred. Then, who knows what’s real anymore. 

Having the habit of falling asleep fully dressed, usually while doing something, came in handy during times like these. Grant felt himself doing exactly what he always did. As he stepped outside, the Montana breeze bit at his nose and clung to the damp parts of his skin. Sliding his hands into his pockets, Alan begins to wander around the dig site. 

He always did this and it helped calm him down. In his dreams, things were fuzzy and details were nonexistent. However, in real life he could hear mosquitoes buzzing, voices mumbling, water dripping, and more life in general. This was what was real, and Jurassic Park was not. He had escaped as did Ellie, the kids, Malcolm, and Hammond. He didn’t have to worry about the well being of his loved ones because no one he cared for was on that island. He had escaped and it was over. Anything that told him otherwise wasn’t real. Simple as that. Things that were real were more tangible.

Alan’s boots scuffled in the dirt as he paced around the perimeter of the dig site like a lion checking it’s territory. Out in the Montana Badlands the scariest creatures he had encountered were a few prairie rattlesnakes. Grant knew there were others out here but not that he’d seen. Besides, those rattlesnakes were creepy. They continued trying to bite you even after their heads were chopped off. Alan had a very close call with one of the interns once who, after decapitating the snake, tried to pick up the body. Luckily, the kid made it to a hospital in time after he was bitten by the thrashing head. It was very freaky to encounter. 

One of the things Alan liked most about life out here was how desolate it is. He was grateful the reporters couldn’t follow him out here and he wouldn’t have to talk to many people in general. Never being a social butterfly, he relished in the idea that there weren’t many humans out here. Ellie once said Alan Grant in the city would be like chicken broth in vegetarian soup. 

Sometimes, everything felt claustrophobic. Dr. Grant liked having an escape route and the open plains were perfect. Alan felt less trapped inside his nightmares and flashbacks when he had so much space to pull himself together. 

Growing up in close quarters, he adored having so may miles to stretch out. Before everyone hit the hay, there were a lot of festivities at the dig site among the young people. They swam in the lake, had bonfires, and played capture the flag or ghost in the graveyard out on the plains. Grant, himself, recalled many times when he would run through the dirt with Ellie. They could race, hand in hand, until they collapsed and still, miles from where they started, there was only openness. There was something private about having so much room. Alan related to the homesteader and his need for acres of land to call his own.

Because of how wide and open the badlands were, Grant could see for miles. He loved that. Especially after the incident at the park. Making his way around the trailer they used for study, he looked over his shoulder again. 

Despite what he wanted, those memories never left him. Alan still heard velociraptor chirps in birdsong and thunderstorms were a nightmare. With the landscape being so out in the open, he would know if something was coming for him. That was the issues with Jurassic Park, he thought, Hammond had the whole jungle thing going on and although it was accurate and helpful for the animals, you would never know what was coming for you. Surrounded by trees, you can’t see a predator only a foot from your face. On Nublar, he didn’t know the tyrannosaur was watching until she let them know she was. 

His badlands were so much better. Alan could check his surroundings better. As he passed the skeletons, covered with tarps, he took note of the slower pace of his heart. His breaths no longer stung and he was calming down. Being able to have a few minutes to himself grounded Alan and cleared his head better than any conversation or time to rest could. Besides, it was gorgeous out here. He had seen the sun rise during his walks on multiple occasions and learned to name constellations. 

As Alan approached his tent again, he didn’t feel déjà vu from this habit of his. For years, he had circled this same perimeter, in all kinds on mental states but each time felt different somehow. He always had something new on his mind that kept him from tiring. After the nightmares he’d sometimes have, all Alan might want to do is curl up under his cot and press his head into the ground until the memories were pressed into the dirt with the skeletons too. Grant was more practical and realistic than that. He knew that this was the way it was and so instead of obsessing over the problem, he’d find a way to fix it. 

Upon entering the canvas bedroom, Grant slid back between the scratchy blankets, the smell of the early morning air still clinging to him. He didn’t know if he might be up again or if he would walk his walk tomorrow of the day after. It was nice to have a backup plan for his rude awakenings though so, he was able to doze off. The only way his fear could affect him was if he thought of it in his waking hours; thus giving it all the power. Alan knew what was just dreams and he’d let them stay there. Not afraid, he was able to sleep soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sooo fun to writeeee! Writing about Alan is really fun and I really don't know why!! Idk where he lives on the dig site; I know in the book they lived in teepees but I really don't know so if anyone DOES know or has an idea better than a tent (lol) then let me know so I can fix it.  
> Anyway, *insert spiel here*  
> byee


	16. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ian is always looking for a way out. Even without realizing it, he searches for every exit each time he enters a room either in case he of an escape for his life or if he has a panic attack.  
> Inspiration: The Lost World

Ian Malcolm knows this isn’t a good habit to have. He looked it up once. Dr. Malcolm knows you are never supposed to use the internet to find results for your symptoms but he’d looked it up during one of the endless nights. Hypervigilance. “an enhanced state of sensory sensitivity accompanied by an exaggerated intensity of behaviors whose purpose is to detect activity.” Or maybe he was just paranoid. 

Since anyone could tell anyway, Ian could admit he was afraid. He was afraid of a lot of things and it did affect his behavior. Starting a year or so after the park, Ian had a habit of needing to scope out whatever area he was in. Upon entering a room, he would be searching. Silly as it sounds, he subconsciously made sure there were no dinosaurs. He also counted exits so he’d know exactly where to go if something happened. 

It wasn’t just about disasters though. One of the things that stressed Malcolm’s mind a lot was the worry of breaking down in front of his kids or in public. His house had been home to many panic attacks where he could fall apart without anyone even knowing. Sometimes, he’d be on a date with Sarah and something would go wrong. Ian would see water rippling in one of the glasses, or hear the engine of a car roar too loudly, or something else, it didn’t really matter, and he’d need to escape. He couldn’t count the number of times he had excused himself from social situations to run around the bend or to a bathroom with a thundering heart and sweaty palms. 

He did this during interviews too. During the interviews he’d be offered about the park, Ian took note of every exit and replayed in his mind over and over what he’d do if he started to lose it. He learned early and remembered if it was filmed or audio recorded, with an audience, broadcasted live, how many people might be watching, and the size of the crew. Details such as these were important to him during those interviews so he remembered. 

Malcolm had been told, albeit jokingly, that he looked like a deer in the headlights whenever he was in a new place. Perfectly still and wide-eyed, he’d scan the entire room for anything amiss. He couldn’t help it though. Ian just made sure to assess whatever situation he was walking into. He’d always been that way and after the park, he wasn’t just soaking up his surroundings anymore but also looking for threats and escape routes. 

Dr. Malcolm knew that his apartment two exits, both around twenty seconds from his bedroom. The room he lectured in at the university also had two exits and a door leading to his office. His office there just had the one door but also had a large window, ground level. The closest staff bathroom from there was thirty seconds down the hall, the nearest building exit, seventeen seconds. 

Even though he tried not to notice these things, he always does. Probably out of paranoia. To be honest, he is tired of having to do this. Ian doesn’t want to know exactly how many exits are in every building he enters and he doesn’t want to know how long it takes to exit. Having the knowledge would come in handy when he could feel a panic attack coming on but he didn’t want to have to worry about that. He didn’t want any of it. Resisting the urge was just as exhausting as keeping himself on edge. Again, another choice of his that wouldn’t matter. Again, another thing in his life he didn’t want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...umm...yeesh...angst...uh...sorry? Yeeeaaaah I have a lot of angst planned. These are just all fluff and angst. If anyone has any crack HC suggestions I'd love to hear them.  
> Anyway, feel free to leave comments.


	17. Sarah Harding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Sarah feels so bad for bringing Ian and ultimately Kelly to Sorna, that she tends to cater to Ian’s needs, even subconsciously.  
> Inspiration: The Lost World

Sarah Harding didn’t ever think she would ever feel this way. She had always been optimistic and excited about everything. The only way she could think about how she felt now was crappy. There was no better fitting word. She wasn’t bothered this way over the San Diego incident that happened recently, what she felt bad about happened before that. The Isla Sorna Incident of 1997. Her fault. 

Her nightmares were horrible but Sarah thought she deserved them. She felt so stupid, naïve, and immature. Her heart overruled her head again. Or maybe her heart was just in the wrong place. 

When Dr. Harding first heard the rumors about living dinosaurs she did everything she could to find more. She did her research, making phone calls, finding websites, meeting people, and eventually meeting her boyfriend, Ian Malcolm. 

Despite the NDA, he told her mostly everything about Isla Nublar. It was never enough though. Sarah only heard what she wanted to hear and his warnings fell upon deaf ears. When listening to him, she pinned the incident’s blame on the stupidity of others and never thought the dinosaurs themselves were overly dangerous. She thought with proper handling everything would be fine. She thought she could handle them. 

She really couldn’t. Now she was paying the price. 

When Ian had told her about Jurassic Park in the past she always thought he was being dramatic or paranoid and things weren’t as bad as he said. At least she believed him though whereas the public surely did not. Sarah understood now though. 

Previously, Sarah Harding didn’t see how bad Jurassic Park had been because she didn’t want to. She wasn’t paying attention enough to the stories Ian told and the way he acted. Things had been bad enough on Nublar that he was traumatized. He was traumatized and Sarah dragged him back to the one place on earth he didn’t want to be. She essentially brought his daughter there too. Sarah hated herself. 

She hated that it was her fault. She hated that she was so immature and excitable. She was a witness to everything now. Since Sorna, she and Ian didn’t have any secrets. She knew about his nightmares and Kelly’s. Their panic attacks. Their trauma. Her fault. 

Sarah would do anything to make it up to both of them. She loved Ian, everything about him, and Kelly was like her own daughter. Malcolm made sure Sarah got along with each of his kids before they started dating. That was a priority for him and she respected that. 

Sarah loved Kelly. She was sweet and bold and brave. After her boyfriend took the girl to therapy, Dr. Harding helped pay for it. Anything to make up for her mistakes. 

Originally after Sorna, both she and Ian were a mess of guilt before they were able to start picking up the pieces. He assured Sarah time and time again that it wasn’t her fault just that she should listen to him every now and then. He always joked about being right and frankly, it annoyed Sarah when she wanted to have a serious talk. 

Despite what everyone said, she couldn’t forgive herself. So she ended up doing everything she could to take her forgiveness into her own hands. 

Kelly’s mother tended to be just as forgetful as her father did. Worse since Malcolm put Kelly first whereas the girl’s mother held Kelly as a second priority. She has always done that and it was the main thing that drove her and Ian apart. Sarah tried to be like a mother for Kelly when her own mom couldn’t. Whenever the little girl was feeling abandoned or down about her parental situation, Sarah confided in her things she confided in almost no one. Sarah’s own parents divorced when she was young. She hasn’t spoken to her father in years, he had another daughter with another woman, Sarah’s half-sister Jessica. In fact, her relationship with her dad was so strained, she was more comfortable asking about the rumors of Isla Nublar with a strange man in the hospital than her own father who was on that island himself.

To attempt to let Isla Sorna go, Sarah did every little thing she could to be better. Even without realizing, she did things selflessly. She did favors for Ian, practically whatever he asked, and tried her hardest to be there for him. Her trips became less frequent and shorter. Amongst her guilt though, she felt her love for Ian Malcolm growing stronger. Catering to his needs became less of favors and she did them because she loved him.

Eventually, her guilt left. In its place was love. Sarah’s relationship with Ian became stronger as they both fell deeper in love. She loved his adorable kids and the selfless things she did stopped being about payment and started being acts of compassion. Maybe she was stupid and naïve before. Maybe she was reckless and selfish and the one to blame. But perhaps not. She knew that for better or worse though, she changed. On Sorna, Sarah grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this strayed from what the HC was about originally and ended up being more about an arc for Sarah. I know a lot of people hate her but I liked Sarah because she was good for Ian to at least have SOMEONE but she was a little annoying. Ergo, a character arc is all she needs XD.  
> Seriously, there are so few Jurassic Park fanfictions out there! I have read them all so it's just really sad.  
> Anyway, hope this didn't get too shippy. Lolz  
> *insert spiel here*  
> 


	18. Ian Malcolm and Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ian doesn’t let himself cry about the pain, changes, PTSD, or anything caused from the park since he sees it as defeat and letting them win. Alan is the same way, but when he breaks down its never within earshot of anyone.  
> Inspiration: Just JP

“No one listens.” The mathematician stated, matter-of-fact. As soon as the words left his mouth, he flung the rubber ball in his hand into the air above his head. Supine on his sofa, one of Ian’s legs was hanging off the side while he lay with a blanket messily thrown over his torso, being used for comfort more than warmth. The television kept speaking in it’s low hum. What was even on at this hour?

   
He caught the ball, probably one belonging to his kids, squarely in his palm. Before tossing it up again. “I keep telling them.” Ian complained. He caught the ball in his fist again. He threw it. “But no one listens.” Suddenly, a flash of white lit up the room and Ian winced. His attention diverted, he forgets the falling sphere of rubber. Malcolm barley spots it and has time to flinch before it collides with his face, jolting numbing aches around his cheek. “Son of a,” Thunder crashed outdoors in response to the lightning. Ian swallowed his words to keep from gasping.

    
Through the hammering of rain was the hum of electricity as it struggled to hold onto it’s grip on the house’s power. On a normal night, Ian Malcolm had difficulty falling asleep for fear of the nightmares that seemed to always come when he did. There being a thunderstorm, he knew there was no chance he’d get a wink of rest until it passed. If at all.

   
Thunderstorms such as these were horrible. They weren’t just storms anymore, not since Jurassic Park. His nightmares had thunderstorms, there were thunderstorms that night on Nublar. No, they weren’t just storms anymore. They brought Ian right back to that night with the Tyrannosaur.

  
_“Kids get scared.”_ Dr. Grant clearly didn’t like, and probably didn’t know much about, kids. Ian, however, adored children. His own kids were practically the air in his lungs. He knew Lex and Tim might be frightened. Malcolm didn’t know Gennaro well but he already could tell he wasn’t a nurturer. Gennaro was the kind of man who would tell a weeping child to just be quiet.

   
_“I didn’t say I was scared.”_ He was, though. Even if he didn’t say it. Ian hadn’t been scared for himself though. He didn’t like the thought of those kids being frightened with no one to tell them it was alright. Ian’s own little three liked to be held. When they were afraid, there was no greater cure than a kiss and a cuddle.

   
They had all hated thunder though. Dr. Malcolm had just told them it was nature. Chaos Theory at it’s finest. Weather was one of the most unpredictable things of all. Have you seen how often the weather men lead you astray?

   
Now, Ian was the scared one. Curling into a ball on his side and pulling the blanket over his face, he thought of raising the televisions volume but knew that wouldn’t help anything. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling foolish and still afraid. Another roar of thunder rattled the building and, sleep deprived as he was, he swallowed the lump in his throat. His leg pulsed from the day’s earlier pacing, a permanent reminder of everything.

   
Still buried, Malcolm took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. He might give himself another panic attack and during the storm, that wouldn’t be fun. Sometimes during panic attacks, Ian would cry. There were many instances where he would wake up screaming and find tear tracks down his cheeks too. Other than those times, he would never let himself cry. The last time he did was when he thought he would lost Kelly after San Diego. That isolated incident and the panic attacks were the only exceptions.

   
Ian didn’t want to think that Hammond’s idiocy had broken him the way it did. He hated to admit defeat and this would be accepting defeat. At least Malcolm thought so. Even when Ludlow would be sweet-talking the public about what a mental case Ian was or what a liar he'd been, insults to both his character and intelligence, he didn’t want to think that Peter Ludlow was capable of hurting him.

   
In general, Ian Malcolm didn’t want to think he was capable of being hurt. It was probably from his fear of being vulnerable. There was nothing more vulnerable than opening up. It took awhile for Sarah to bring even some of his walls down. He had those abandonment and trust issues even before the park. 

   
So, Malcolm held in all his dejection and fear. The people he loved needed him and shouldn’t have to worry about him, so he set aside all the misery. He saved it for himself. He wished he wasn’t just a result of the rape of the natural world or a symbol of madness but those were some of the things he’d been reduced to. Dr. Malcolm always wanted to return to his old self but that man died on Nublar.

   
He wouldn’t let anyone break him anymore. Much less, stupid, stuck-up, billionaires who saw Jurassic Park as either a game or money-making machine. So, Malcolm refused to cry whenever possible. No matter how badly his leg hurt, or how horrid the night terror was.

   
While the air under the blanket grew warmer, Ian pressed his head into the couch cushions as though he could use sheer force to pry his thoughts from his head. Under his breath, Malcolm started to recite lines from one of the math books he’d read endlessly when the nights were too long. The thunder continued to bellow and the wind continues to scream.

   
Dr. Malcolm jolted upright to a sitting position. A loud ringing pierced through his ears and he puzzled at the darkness that remained after he opened his eyes. In one swift motion he yanked the blanket off of his head, messing up his hair further. Daylight streamed through the curtains of the living room. “-with last night’s storms causing power losses in three districts near Houston. Most areas here in Austin seem to have restored their electricity this Saturday morning.” He turned his head to face the television where the news woman showed the wreckage of branches and mud behind her.

   
Nearby, the phone rang again. Malcolm stretched, the blanket over his lap, before running a hand through his messy blanket head. He reached for the cordless house phone on the coffee table. Drowsily, he pressed it to his ear as Ian answered. “Uh, hello.” He raised his arm and checked the time. Around 8AM.

   
“Malcolm, it’s Grant.” The man on the other side of the line states breathily.

   
“Alan.” Ian’s eyebrows raise and he smirks. “Why are, uh, what’s up?” Dr. Grant paces, shoving his hand not gripping the phone into his pocket. He hopes that will keep it from shaking. He doesn’t really know why he even called. Ellie was usually the one to remind him to talk to people and in the state he was in now, why would he call _Ian Malcolm_? Ellie had been unavailable so it seemed he had no other choice.

   
“Nothing much.” Biting his lip, Grant regretted even choosing to talk to anyone. Social situations were uncomfortable, exhausting, and not worth it. Especially when Alan was already upset to begin with. “How are you?”

   
“Same I guess.” Malcolm responded, running a hand over his face. His glasses were somewhere around here but he was too tired to go hunting for them. Stretching, Ian stands up and begins making it to the kitchen. Both the microwave ad oven’s clocks are flashing 12:00. The clock in the kitchen beeps very loudly.

   
“What’s that noise?” Breaking the silence, Alan must’ve heard the clock. Malcolm smacks it with his palm.

   
“I lost power from the, uh, the storms last night.” He mutters quietly. Breathing less heavily, Dr. Grant clenches his jaw at the mention of storms. “I hate thunderstorms.” Ian mutters, as though to himself, but Alan heard him. He hates storms too. Hearing the rolling of thunder across the badlands brings him back to Nublar as well. Alan can still hear the kid’s screams in the wind and feel the mud clinging to him, itchy and cold.

   
Alan Grant adores Lex and Tim. At first to him, they’d seemed like normal annoying children but once he began fighting for their lives, he noticed things about them he hadn’t before. He liked some kids. _“I didn’t ask. Why wouldn’t they be?”_ Thinking back, Alan felt bad for his apathy towards children. Dr. Malcolm had been thinking of them but Alan was not. He wished he could’ve been more approachable and kind to them.

 

 _“What’s there to be scared of its just a little hiccup in the power.”_ Alan Grant didn’t know at the time. He didn’t know about the Rex only yards away, he didn’t know how much he would grow to love those kids. Alan didn’t know that he would still be thinking of that night for the rest of his life.

   
Dr. Grant knew this would be with him for the rest of his life. At this point, Jurassic Park was a part of who he was. Like it or not. It was a grim acceptance that he didn’t want to admit.

   
From the outside, Grant looked like he was the one who had it all together. He refused to talk about the park but if he didn’t have a choice, there was little to no change in his demeanor. No one who knew him had seen any of his panic attacks, he disguised his flashbacks, and seemed to recover from nightmares. Little did they know that he didn’t have it together.

   
Alan felt like he was always being torn apart and sewn back together in a temporary fix. As long as others believed he was alright, he could sometimes convince himself too. He had panic attacks behind closed doors, cried only on the inside, pushed his thoughts far into the back of his skull. His Ellie knew him better than he knew himself and was the only one that saw how he was inside.

   
Pacing back and forth, Dr. Grant reached for a beer. He was careful never to have too much but one every now and then didn’t hurt. He shook his head as though that could erase the images of Isla Nublar from his brain. “Ugh, don’t even mention them anymore.” He mumbled. Malcolm was quiet, for once, as he always got about things like this.

   
“They upset you too, huh” He bit his lip, thinking about the storm last night and again wished he hadn’t been frightened.

   
“Not that I will talk about.” Ian Malcolm smirked at the paleontologist’s response.

   
“I think the most words I’ve, uh, ever heard you say was during Hammond’s lunch.” He teased the older man. On the other side of the conversation, Alan shrugged, taking a sip of his beer bottle.

   
“I’m not going to talk if I don’t have anything I want to say.” He states causing Malcolm to laugh a little. Ian thought no sentence fitted the other man better. In Montana, Grant noticed the time. Everyone on the dig site would be starting soon. He sighed. “Alright, I’ve got stuff to do now, Malcolm.”

   
“Oh, okay. It’s, uh, it’s been good hearing from you.”

   
“Likewise. And Ian,” Alan paused. Talking to Malcolm had calmed him down like speaking with Ellie did. What could he say about that? "thanks." He hung up and set down everything he was holding. Biting his lip, he pulled his mind from all thoughts of the island. There was no more time for sadness now. Back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, another one that is very different than the headcanon intended. I wanted this to just be angst but its like friendship fluff and angst. I wanted this to be sadder than it turned out but alas, here we are.  
> You can comment and request and so on. God bless ya'll.  
> 


	19. Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Alan copes by seeing the park’s dinos as lab rats- not the ones he digs up because they scare him so much but he loves his work too much to be afraid of it  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park movies- also "What John Hammond and InGen did at Jurassic Park was create genetically engineered theme park monsters. Nothing more and nothing less." (Luv that quote BTW)

His hands shake as he glances back at the new skeleton. Velociraptor. He can still hear their barks and hisses. The safety of the dig site doesn’t feel as safe as it used to. Alan Grant probably wouldn’t be surprised if one of the skeletons started slashing its claws at him. 

Dr. Sattler was the one who had helped him figure out what to do about it. Jurassic Park had taken so much innocence and peace from him and he wouldn’t let it take his passion too. Eventually, he and Ellie acknowledged the elephant in the room and wondered what they would do about their careers. Having to even look at the fossils was an anxiety attack and thinking about those animals was a nightmare. Out here there were so many triggers for flashbacks all around them. They needed to examine their options. 

“If you think about it,” Ellie had stated, grasping Alan’s hands in hers. He gazed into her eyes. “who knows if Hammond’s monsters were even real. They weren’t real.”

“What are you talking about?” He mumbled, not glancing back at the bones nearby. 

“At the park. Those things we saw there weren’t dinosaurs. The sooner we realize that, the sooner we can get back to work.” She smirked for a second before separating her hands from his. He slid his arms around her waist and she rested her palms on his shoulders. He looped his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans. Her eyes burned with such intensity and honesty. “They weren’t real.” With Ellie’s eyes flitting from each of his, Alan feels his cheeks heat up. She was looking at him with such openness and affection. Grant noticed Ellie’s eyes glanced down to his lips for a moment and he pulled her closer. 

Alan kissed her. He held her close for a few seconds before she pulled back, letting their foreheads lean against each other, their noses bumping. They both kept their eyes shut. “This is real.” Dr. Sattler whispered in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I should’ve figured that out.” Grant agreed, sarcastically teasing, after giving her a rare smile. “Real dinosaurs are dead.”

Together, Alan and Ellie clung to this fact like a lifeline. It was the one thing keeping them from quitting their careers. Alan Grant swore to himself he would never let himself hate this job. He may as well hate his life. 

Dr. Grant wrestles with himself to remind himself that the things he saw at the park weren’t his beloved dinosaurs. His entire life he had adored those animals and after going to Nublar, Alan felt he lost a part of himself. Honestly, he did. It’s hard to be excited about a new skeleton when the discovery leads to breaking out in a cold sweat, lashing out, and quivering hands.

“You liked dinosaurs back then.” Alan would admit, he did like dinosaurs more before Jurassic Park. Every little thing about every single dinosaur-related thing had been his life for as long as he could remember. The paleontologist couldn’t even imagine his life without keeping his career. So, ever since 1993, the creatures he encountered on Nublar weren’t dinosaurs. They were monsters. Dinosaurs weren’t monsters. It was the only way Alan could cope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just one I was thinking of based on that little speech of Alan's in Jurassic Park 3 because to me it sounded a little rehearsed; as though Alan had been telling people and himself that for a while. This also got way shippier than intended. Alan and Ellie were such a good ship tho!  
> Anyway, feel free to leave comments with your character recommendations, HCs you want to be one shots, and criticism and whatever. Leave a joke in the comments if you really want to XD.  
> Whatever XD have a nice day.


	20. Ellie Sattler (+Mark Degler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mark doesn’t know what Ellie has been through and he doesn’t pretend to. Whenever she has a nightmare or panic attack, he will ask her who she needs. Sometimes she just wants him to hold her but sometimes she needs to hear from those who have experienced it. In that case, Mark would get the phone for her and even dial the number of who she needed- he memorized Ian and Alan’s numbers for this cause.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park

Ellie gasps as she wakes up. “Hey, Ellie, it’s just a dream.” She feels the warm hand of her husband, Mark, rub her upper arm. Sitting up, she tucks herself into a ball, hiding her face. Mark scoots closer to rub her back, concern in his eyes. Where other men might not be, Mark was caring and accepting. He knew he couldn’t ever understand what it was like for her on Nublar, but was there to help her through it. 

The blonde wanted to sob but she swallowed it down. Heart pounding, she could hear her fast breath echo back to her ears in the air pocket her head was stuck in. Her eyes were clamped shut as she focused on the feel of Mark’s palm on her back. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe.” She let out a shuddering breath, still unwilling to look up. Marks’ voice was low and comforting to his wife. He was her rock.

“Who do you need?” The familiarity of the question felt good to her. For years now he had used those words. Mark understood that holding Ellie wasn’t a magical cure for everything. After a flashback, panic attack, or nightmare, he would always he there for her as the worst of it passed. After a minute, once she had calmed, he would ask who she needed.

After breaking down again, all the blonde needed sometimes was to talk to someone with shared experience. Talking to Alan was one of the fastest ways to calm Ellie enough to help her sleep again after waking up screaming and to get the tears to stop. Alan Grant had already soothed an endless amount of panic attacks already and was someone she trusted with more than her life; she would trust him with the life of her children. Ellie would trust Alan with anything and everything.

Dr. Grant was hard to contact though. He wasn’t always able to answer and if he did, sometimes hearing his voice pained Ellie. She loved him and used to be so madly in love with him. She also figured technically he was her ex. Also, if all she wanted to do was forget, hearing him brought her back to fighting the raptors. 

Most times, Ellie spoke with Dr. Malcolm. He always answered her calls no matter what time it was and Ian understood too. He reassured her with facts and reminders; reminding her how many miles way Nublar was, how long it’d been since any of them had been there, and basically shut down her worries. Ian also joked with her, getting her to laugh when she was crying. If she had a nightmare and couldn’t sleep, he’d bore her by reciting pages from his math books and explaining Chaos to death until she dozed off. 

Mark understood his wife’s connections to these men was didn’t get jealous if they were able to calm her in a way he couldn’t. As long as it helped her. He knew that sometimes she needed to hear from people who had gone through the same trauma she had. Mark memorized both Alan and Ian’s phone numbers for the sole purpose of calling one of them for Ellie when they were who she needed. He didn’t know either of them very well but knew they were her friends and talking with them did her wonders.

Hearing from the others didn’t always feel good. Alan and Ian brought back memories of Nublar at times she didn’t want any. Also, Alan and Ian were just as broken as she was. There had been a few occasions where one of them might pick up with labored breathing and frightened tones. Despite their reassurances, Ellie didn’t retell her nightmares for fear of freaking one of them out. Mark, on the other hand, never broke down. 

There were times when all Ellie wanted was to feel Mark embrace her. She knew her husband would protect her. He was her strength in his steadiness. Alan, too, had been her rock. She felt better with his husband around.

On the other hand, there were times when all she wanted was to be left alone. In that case, her husband would give her one last peck on the head before leaving her be. He also entertained the kids on days like those. If there was one thing Ellie deserved to have it was her alone time. 

Shuddering, Ellie thought it over. “I need you right now.” Mark shifts in bed to wrap his arm across his bride’s shoulders. Ellie uncurls from her ball, cuddling into his chest. Warm in her husband’s arms, she lets her tears fall. She doesn’t weep as she thought she might but she is still and silent as the tears streak down her face. But, in the back of her mind, Ellie knows that it’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendship YAY.   
> Ugh I am in such an angsty mood rn cuz I keep thinking of Alan and Ian's character arcs (ending in both of them losing their innocence) and how it relates to characters in Endgame. (Like Tony has never been at peace like Alan and Ian) Idk just weird brain stuff.   
> Tomorrow's HC will be about Owen Grady in honor of CHRIS PRATT'S BIRTHDAY! YAY! Lots of Clawen too!   
> BYE *insert spiel here*


	21. Owen Grady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Owen was an athletic kid but he was mostly really interested in animals and zoology. He even did community service at a local zoo  
> Inspiration: Jurassic World (and some stuff from the Evolution of Claire)

“You were going to be a politician?!” Owen chuckled incredulously. Under his arm on the sofa, Claire giggled, her cheeks slightly reddening. 

“To save the animals of the world.” She insisted, grinning. When her boyfriend didn’t stop laughing, she added to her statement. “The people in politics have the ability to fix things.” Owen beams down at the redhead, his fingers rubbing circles on her upper arms. With her laying against his side, everything feels perfect. It’s late and after soothing one of Maisie’s nightmares, Claire left her bedroom to be with Owen who has been sleeping on the couch. He couldn’t sleep either so they were both perfectly content to cuddle and pretend they were watching the television. 

“You just have to be in charge don’t you, control freak?” Smirking, she smacked Grady’s shoulder playfully. 

“Well, what did you want to do when you were a kid, mister raptor trainer? Hm?” She teased. Snuggled together, they both had their heads turned to look at one another every so often. Owen played with Claire’s fingers with one of his hands. “I mean before joining the navy. Were you a jock kid, soldier?”

“A jock? Kind of. I certainly wasn’t a nerd like you.” 

“Oh, haha, Mr. Grady. Very funny.” The redhead pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms across her chest.

“We’re back to mister Grady now are we?” Owen chuckled. “Actually, Claire, I liked animals just as much as you.”

“Did you have any pets?”

“I had a dog. You had a zoo though! How many pets again?” Claire began speaking before he finished his sentence, shaking her head.

“You should’ve had a lizard.” 

“I liked my dog and just to make it clear I wasn’t a jock. I was athletic but not a jock, there’s a difference.” 

“Alright. Well, what did an animal-loving boy such as yourself want to do?” 

“I actually wanted to be a vet.” Claire’s head turned to meet her boyfriend’s eyes. She wanted to be a vet for a while when she was really little and imagined Owen with a doctor coat in her mind’s eye. 

“Why didn’t you?” Owen shrugged, thinking of how badly he wanted it. He thought of how impossible it truly was. Claire was a girl who did what she wanted. Owen was the same way- his way of the high way, but being a veterinarian wasn’t where he belonged. 

“Didn’t work out. It requires college and college requires money.” He shrugged again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t belong there. Didn’t belong in the navy either.” Owen bit his lip. True Jurassic World had been a disaster but that place, even if it’s destroyed now, had been his home. Despite the nightmares, he found himself homesick for his life being Blue’s alpha. 

“I wish things could’ve worked out differently.” Claire murmured, eyes on her hands in her lap. Leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, she twiddles her thumbs.

“What do you mean?”

“With the park. On that island was the place where I really felt I belonged for the first time.” Ever since 2004, Claire didn’t feel like an outsider. She had found her place. Owen felt the same way. He knew if he was a vet he wouldn’t have the action he enjoyed in the navy. If he stayed in the navy he would have to be lacking his stubborn independence.

“Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was a stepping stone for both of us.” Claire stays silent. With only the television making noise, they can feel the warmth coming off of the other person.

“What else,” Breaking the silence and bringing up the prior topic, Claire asks. “did you do, soldier?” Owen breaks into a grin at the nickname and thinks back. He laughs.

“My community service in high school was at a small rescue zoo.” Claire beams up at him. As they both start discussing the horrors of animal shelter working, Owen allows his mind to wander. He always loved animals but unlike Claire who wanted to save them, he wanted to be with them. With both of them retreating into their own thoughts, the silence returns. Again, the redhead breaks it first.

“Let's get a dog.”

“What?” Owen asks incredulously.

“Maisie could use a friend. Let’s get a dog.” Owen turns to face her head on, they are both sitting across from one another now, one of his legs folded.

“Claire, you can’t be serious.” She grins at him, running her thin fingers through her waves.

“Why not?” Owen takes a second to think it over. It would be nice to have something to help guard the house against stray dinosaurs and the three of them could use the company. Blue couldn’t be replaced though. The theoretical dog will not be a replacement but an addition. Thinking of how badly he missed his raptor girl, he shrugs, his voice turning playful.

“Will you listen if I refuse?” They are both stubborn people so many times they found it hard to end arguments. Owen picked his battles. His girlfriend’s pretty mouth turns up into a wide grin, also playful.

“Nope.” Owen smacks himself in the forehead, groaning dramatically.

“Ugh, then I guess we are getting a dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS CHRIS PRATT'S BIRTHDAY! so yeah, this One Shot is all about Owen in honor of Chris.  
> I might've gone a little overboard with the shipping considering what this HC was supposed to be but the more Clawen the better!!  
> I did reference the evolution of Claire in this but it's just subtle stuff and if you haven't read it you REALLY should!  
> Bye! Feel free to comment, constructively criticize, request, and have a nice day!


	22. Ellie Sattler (+Ian Malcolm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: If Ellie ever has a nightmare, or needs to talk, Ian will be there for her no matter what time it is or anything.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park

Ellie felt the weight of her quilt over her. Queasy and in a cold sweat from the nightmare a few minutes ago, her breaths stung her throat. It was dark and her eyes kept scanning the shadows. She wanted to turn on the lights but was too afraid of what may be lurking in the dark.

Mark wasn’t home. He was on another one of his business trips so she was lonely again. She curled up into a ball, the darkness seeping in. The blonde knew where the phone was. It was on the nightstand, by Mark’s side. She made most of her calls at night. Alan was sometimes hard to contact. But Ian wasn’t. 

Over endless nights, Ian and Ellie had spoken until dawn, and sometimes a few hours after. Malcolm never called Ellie, not wanting to wake her or cause her trouble, but whenever Ellie wouldn’t sleep or had a nightmare, she called him. He’d answer the phone no matter what time it was. Their time zones were an hour or two apart so generally night and day lined up. No matter what time it was or what he might be doing at the time, Ian always picked up the phone for her. He understood what it felt like to feel ignored, forgotten, and alone, and never wanted anyone else to feel that way. 

Usually, Ian Malcolm wasn’t even sleeping anyway. Yet, there were times when the phone would wake him still. He didn’t tell Ellie she woke him on nights like that. Other times, if he wasn’t already awake, it was most likely her phone call would be a release from another nightmare. He never minded or got frustrated with her and was very apologetic if he wasn’t home or able to answer. 

The main thing she saw talking over the phone was as a distraction. He enjoyed it because he felt less bored and alone during those long nights. Knowing someone who truly understood was on the other end of the line was a comfort to them both. Their loved ones, however supportive, could never fathom what they went through wholly. Telling the stories couldn’t capture the violence, breaking down couldn’t display the damage, and they both understood that there would be no easy fixed to any of this. “Shake it off”, “man up”, and “go back to sleep” speeches didn’t magically make everything better.

While on the phone, Ian did everything he could to make her laugh and forget her worries. She’d explain how Nublar feels like yesterday and Malcolm would inform her exactly how many days its been. He knew making her smile and putting Band-Aid fixes on her worries were only temporary fixes. Just like how as soon as they hung up he’d be alone again. Yet, they liked the Band-Aid fixes.

The phone goes off in Malcolm’s house causing him to awake with a start. He’s lying behind the sofa, just another random place his body pursued sleep in. Groaning, he checks his watch and it’s almost dawn. He’d only fallen asleep around an hour ago. Drowsily, Malcolm fumbles for the phone on the coffee table. As he grasps it, seeing it’s Ellie, he collapses onto the sofa. He leans back before he answers. “Uh, hey, Ellie.” 

“Ian.” She sighs on the other end of the line. She had mustered up the clearness of mind to not be afraid to reach for the phone on the nightstand. And the lamp. Calmer, Ellie was sitting with her back pressed up against the headboard and her legs folded in front of her. She glances toward the wall where she knows her son is sleeping on the other side. “Did I wake you?”

“Doesn’t matter. I wasn’t, uh, getting any rest worthwhile.” He shrugs to himself. Swiftly, the two begin delving into conversation. They don’t talk about Hammond, or dinosaurs, or nightmares. Instead, friendly words are exchanged, asking the other about their day, gossiping about Alan, and debating. Knowing she has so many people to be there for her fills Ellie with a sense of inner peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendship YAY. Yeh, this one was a short little baby.  
> Just so you know: After Jurassic June ends, I won't be posting any more one shots/HCs on this BUT if you have a headcanon or prompt I will take requests and make it into a one-shot for you!  
> Anyway, feel free to comment and God bless ya'll!


	23. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: When Ian does interviews or is seen by the public, he acts like the person he was before 1993 since that is the front he keeps up for his career. However, he becomes his serious self when the island is brought up.  
> Inspiration: The Lost World and Jurassic Park 3- "The guy seemed a bit high on himself." That is how his book seems (judged on how Eric read it), yet we all saw how he was after Jurassic Park. (He wasn't fine!)

From a public view, Dr. Ian Malcolm seemed like every popular person out there. High on themselves, witty, arrogant and fat-headed. Any person that knew Ian personally though knew that his attitude was nothing true to his core. 

Whenever he was on television, Ian made sure to keep up the image of who he used to be. After Isla Sorna, the last thing he needed was more bad press so he acted like everything was fine. He could never be the person he was before 1993, but he could certainly pretend he was. At least to the press. The people with cameras and microphones and viewers at home had a way of twisting facts. It was like acting and like walking on a wire. One misstep and thousands of conspiracies would be born. When on TV you couldn’t as much as bat an eye the wrong direction without setting off some kind of bomb. 

Not to mention the crumbles of his career. After San Diego, Malcolm was reinstated at the university, luckily, and he didn’t intend to lose that position again.  
He couldn’t help himself on certain topic though. The only way someone could tell he was putting up a front was when the incidents of ’93 and ’97 were brought up. As soon as the topic was changed it was like a switch was flipped in Ian Malcolm’s demeanor. He no longer was charismatic and grew somber. He warned whoever was watching sternly with a hardened gaze and stiff gestures. 

Those dinosaur incidents were no joke and he knew that better than anyone. If there was one thing Malcolm couldn’t stand, it was people making light of those situations. A few times the friendly interviewers or reporters tried to jest about those events. Although Malcolm himself had a fair amount of dark humor, he didn’t appreciate it from someone who clearly had no idea what it was like. He couldn’t sleep at night and they only saw it as a joke?!

During surprise interrogations, it was harder for Ian to keep his cool. When the press crowded around his house, blocking the door, or chased him down the sidewalks, he had to fight to remain calm. Usually, as soon as the crowds were gone, Ian fell apart. All that mayhem had triggered a fair amount of panic attacks but never in front of cameras. At least not the worst of it. 

Originally after they had returned from Isla Sorna, Sarah had been waiting for a chance to share the story. It took a fair amount of give and take for Malcolm to persuade her out of it. He didn’t want Sarah to become any more present to the public eye than necessary. She did, however, choose to write a book recounting the events at Sorna and San Diego and she was too stubborn for him to even have a chance of changing her mind further.

Ian answered all the public’s questions so no one else would have to. Not Sarah, certainly not Kelly, and he even didn’t want Nick Van Owen to pull himself into infamy. 

So, he’ll do whatever he has to. The people deserve to know what truly happened, in both situations. Soon, all the buzz around Isla Sorna would fade. When it does, the people who died there shouldn’t be forgotten. No one knew who Muldoon was. He helped save Ian’s life and practically sacrificed himself for Ellie. Mr. Arnold died trying to give them all a chance of survival. No one remembered those things. It only haunted those who had been there on their last day alive. Besides the survivors and their families, no one cared. 

Ian couldn’t ease himself from the guilt about what happened to Eddie. Eddie Carr had watched over Kelly for Ian. He had kept her calm. When the T-Rexes showed up he had done everything in his power to give Ian, Nick, and Sarah a fighting chance. What happened to him in return? He got eaten alive by two angry rexes and forgotten. On the helicopter leaving Sorna, the three adults remembered they had arrived with four. No one in the public knew who Eddie was and only the survivors knew what he’d done. 

Malcolm had to do this, it was the right thing to do. So he made jokes, flirted with reporters, and openly talked about the disasters. It wouldn’t take a shrink though, to figure out that he wasn’t who he pretended to be. And it was because of Jurassic Park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really believe in this HC cuz Ian isn't afraid to show his emotions to his loved ones but always keeps up a front. (probably cuz good ol' trust issues)   
> God bless ya'll and leave comments and enjoy life.


	24. Ellie Sattler, Ian Malcolm, and Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: If Alan or Ian are having a bad day or need some love, they just show up at Ellie’s. She and Mark just let them live there for a few days then. (I totally see Ellie as the mom-friend)  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park and Jurassic Park 3

Ian Malcolm paused with his hand inches from the door. Was this crazy? He’d done this before but he felt a little awkward still. Shaking his head, Ian knocked on the door before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hewwo?” He heard a young, tiny, voice ask from the other side of the door, making him smile. Moments later he could hear Ellie. 

“Charlie, I told you, you can’t answer the door.” She pauses. “Yes, I’ll play with you. Just give me a second.” Suddenly, the door swings open in front of Malcolm’s face. Ellie’s face lights up in recognition before she melts into a smile. “Ian!” Grinning, she steps forward and hugs him. Not expecting it, Ian stands still before returning her embrace. He puts his hands in his pockets, focusing his weight on his good leg after they pull apart. Crossing her arms, Ellie leans on the doorway, Charlie staring at Malcolm from behind her. “What brings you here?” 

“Well, uh, I was wondering if I could lay low for a little while.” He shrugs, biting his lip. “If it’s not too much trouble.” He added quickly. 

“No, it’s fine, come on in.” Ellie laughs a little, stepping aside to let Malcolm in. She closes the door behind him. Charlie ventures out from behind his mother’s legs. The 5-year-old smiles up at Ian. He feels his gloomy mood fade. Ian loves kids. He squats down to the child’s level. 

“Hey, Charlie.”

“Charlie, you remember Dr. Malcolm right?” Many times both Ian and Alan have made appearances at Ellie’s. Whenever one of them is feeling down or in need of a sense of family. Ellie knows something along those lines must have drawn Ian here so she intends to find out. 

Ian Malcolm had always adored children. He loved all of them. That included Ellie’s, so whenever he visited he made time for playing with her kids. “Yeah. The math guy.” Charlie replies causing Ian to smile- wider than he had in a long time. 

“The math guy?” He raises his eyebrows playfully. 

“He calls Alan the dinosaur man.” Ellie laughs. 

“Well, uh, he’s not wrong.” Dr. Malcolm stands to his full height, ignoring the twinges in his left leg, smirking. “What do I tell you, the kids call all the, uh, all the shots.” While Charlie runs off to play in the living room, Ellie leads Ian toward the kitchen.

“So, you’re not,” She teases, laughing. “hiding from the law are you?” Ian chuckles as they make it to the kitchen. They each take a seat on a stool by the counter. Ellie takes a sip from an abandoned coffee cup.

“No nothing like that.” Biting his lip, Ian lets his eyes wander around the room. He sighs, training his gaze on the countertop. “Kelly’s mother is trying to, uh, take sole custody again. I, uh,” He shrugs, keeping his shoulders up for a second extra. “I don’t know what's going on with the case right now. They, uh, they won't tell me.” Ian still struggles to meet Ellie’s gaze. “Just needed to get away.” He whispers.

“I thought that the case was dropped,” Ellie comments quietly. 

“I did too.” Ian swallows hard. “I guess she’s still, uh, still hates me about Sorna.” 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie sips her coffee.

“Mama, I wanna play with you.” Charlie’s voice summons from another room causing both of the adults to chuckle. 

“In a few minutes, honey.” The blonde calls back, a slight grin on her lips. As she swallows the last of her drink, Ellie stands up and paces to the sink. She shoots a grin in Malcolm’s direction. “You’re always welcome here, Ian.” She starts laughing a little. “You’re lucky we have two guest bedrooms or you’d have to sleep on the couch. Which reminds me.” Ellie beams as she always does whereas Malcolm just looks confused. “there is one condition to your stay.” She laughs. “You have to get along with Alan.” 

“What?” 

“Someone say my name?” Alan Grant emerges from the living room, Charlie sitting on the ground beside where he’d been sitting. His eyebrows raise as he spots Dr. Malcolm. “Malcolm.” 

“Uh, hey, Alan.” The mathematician smirks, quirking his eyebrows. He slides off the stool and holds his hand out for Alan to shake. “Good to see you again.” They shake hands. 

“You too.” Grant grins. Ellie beams at her friends from her spot near the counter. The two men start engaging in conversation and their usual squabbling, Ian annoying Alan as much as usual before they both go into the living room to entertain Ellie’s kids. 

Glancing at the clock, she realizes Mark will be home soon. Ellie considered herself very lucky. Mark was so loving and understanding. He was also fine with Alan and Ian staying overnight. They both got along with Mark well too; talking about sports, sharing jokes, and ranting about their careers. He knew they were harmless and was never jealous. Ellie had vented about her friend’s issues enough for Mark to understand that they needed time with his wife sometimes. 

Being the ‘mom-friend’, Ellie, and actually Mark too, sometimes felt they were like babysitters to Alan and Ian. When the two were together they fought like siblings. Civilized siblings, but the way Alan got annoyed with Ian reminded Mark of his brothers. Besides, they both got along with the kids so well.

Mark knew all Ellie had eventually told him about Jurassic Park. He knew Doctors Grant and Malcolm had been there with her as well. They didn’t talk to him about it, save for a couple of occasions, which made sense since he was a bit of an outsider. He knew he couldn’t even imagine what they went through so he didn’t pretend he could. Even if he felt excluded every now and then, he knew his place in his wife’s heart and as long as they were helping her, he was on good terms with them. 

Ellie didn’t worry about Mark’s reaction to Alan and Ian’s appearances. They all got along like friends. Giggling to herself, Ellie considered if they should personalize the two guest bedrooms to be made just for Alan and Ian. 

After a moment, beaming, Ellie made her way to the living room. Alan was sitting across from Charlie on the couch and Ian was laying on his right side on the carpet while Ellie’s youngest pulled at his glasses. “Can you pronounce Baryonyx, Charlie?” The room was all smiles and the blonde reflected their looks. As soon as Mark got home she’d have everyone she loved and protected in this house. Laughing at the scene, she knelt down to join.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alan, Ellie, and Ian are my BROT3!!   
> This is one of my most favorite headcanons! I was thinking of like all three of them being unable to sleep and just going outside, or watching TV, or talking together in the dead of night. They are all in their pajamas and very tired and are laughing about like everything as a result and are just being open with each other. They all fall asleep like spread out over the floor of the living room or in chairs at the table and Mark just comes in like "How did I become the parent over my wife and her traumatized friends" IDK XD.   
> leave comments and requests and have a nice day. (Let me know if you want more of these sleepover-like one shots cuz it was fun to do!) God bless.


	25. Ellie Sattler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Ellie was popular in school. She had a large group of friends but was always kind to anyone- even without knowing them. She took a class in the greenhouse.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic Park- Ellie's character. "She's, uh, tenacious." "You have no idea."

Ellie Sattler had always known who she was. She looked fluffy, kind, and laughable, and she was. But she was also bold, and driven, and tough as nails when she needed to be. Ellie picked her battles. She never stepped on anyone else and certainly didn’t let herself get stepped on. 

She was such a happy baby and little girl that her father made a nickname off of it. Her mom called her sunshine and her dad called her smiles. 

In elementary school, Ellie was one of the girls who knew everybody. She handed out little Christmas gifts, erasers, or pencils, or candy, to everyone in the class. She invited them all to her birthday parties, invited the lonely kids to join her games at recess, and talked to everybody. Sattler chattered about the topics that made her enthusiastic to all the other kids in her class all the time. Towards fourth and fifth grade, she was oblivious to the forming cliques.

The blonde also stood up for others; probably more than she should’ve. Her mother urged her not to intervene in bullying situations but Ellie couldn’t help herself. Her father, however, praised her for being the hero. She helped others and never let the bullies underestimate her.

Throughout all the more serious years of her schooling, Ellie approached it all as she approached everything. She wasn’t one for drama and actually found it all impractical. However, she was what might be stereotyped as a ‘popular girl’. Most of the other kids didn’t know what to make of her though. All of Ellie’s closest friends were cheerleaders and could be a bit snobby. Ellie Sattler, however, didn’t exclude anyone and made friends amongst the ‘nerds’ just as well. Friendly as she is, Ellie had friends in all of her classes. She saw High School as a stepping stone. 

When she was young, she took an interest in plants. Helping her parents garden, growing their own fruits, and outdoor summer camps. Her best grades were always in science. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty and enjoyed doing experiments in science class. The outdoors were Ellie’s space. 

For a significant portion of her childhood, the blonde also was fascinated by dinosaurs. Her family joked about her becoming a paleontologist. Ellie’s daring side loves learning about things where she may never know the answer. She loved the mystery and thrill of making hypotheses and backing up her viewpoints. (Yeah, debate club for half a year.)

Her Sophomore biology teacher mentioned that both those things could be a career option for her first. She was Ellie’s favorite teacher ever who always was welcome to the girl’s enthusiasm. She supported all of her goals and helped her make them happen. To be honest, Sattler didn’t know paleobotany was a thing until then. She decided she wanted it. 

At first, her parents were hesitant when they heard her goals of earning a Ph.D. No one in her family had even graduated from college, much less finished so much of it. Ellie knew who she was though and when she wanted something she tried her hardest. Ellie wanted to become Doctor Sattler. And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like thinking of Ellie like "she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty." Literally and metaphorically I guess lol.  
> This was more of some pieces of Ellie's life.  
> Anyway, leave comments, requests, or questions if you wish.  
> God luvs ya'll and have a nice day!


	26. Claire Dearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Claire was very full of her schoolwork, she almost never made time for friends and was seen as a teacher’s pet by others. She was obsessed with keeping her grades high so she could have a say so in her schooling.  
> Inspiration: Jurassic World movies and HEAVILY inspired by The Evolution Of Claire. Like the whole HC is pretty much stuff Tess Sharpe made up XD  
> (Non-specified spoilers for The Evolution Of Claire, so SPOILER ALERT kinda)

Shaking, Claire Dearing tucked the sheets closer back under her chin. Every time she shut her eyes she could feel blood on her palms and the heat of sparks on her face. She’s so young to be awoken by nightmares. Then again, wasn’t everyone? 

Arriving home after this summer had been hard. Every since this failure of an internship, her sister Karen and her parents have taken good care of her. She wouldn’t mind but wished things could go back to normal. She wished they wouldn’t look at her as though she was about to break. They mean well though. 

Dearing strokes her palm down her dog’s, Earhart’s, back. Earhart’s eyes perched up as her tail wagged. There was a warmth coming off her body that Claire clung to. Before everything got as bad as it had on Nublar, Karen had lectured her sister on her inability to let people in. Memories of the island stung with betrayal that made Claire wonder if she’d ever make friends again. 

Thinking of it, Dearing had never been great with friends. She was a Slytherin but also an introvert. It wasn’t only a matter of not trusting others, but her studies were more important to her than connecting. It would’ve been hard to make friends for her though even if she wanted to. Claire liked her education and all the other kids saw her as a teacher’s pet. 

Even if she had been a little too nice to teachers for brownie points, it was a matter of control. Claire Dearing always had to be in control; it was her way or the highway. That being said, she liked keeping her grades up so all her opportunities would be open. She’d have a safety net to fall back onto and be in charge of her own education.

Reading had been great fun in her childhood. Claire willingly leapt into fictional worlds where the impossible was possible. She related to those book characters more than the people she knew in real life. The ones in literature tended to be as ambitions as she was. No one went on an adventure staying warm and safe in their homes; they had to have the curiosity to dream. People like herself, and Hammond, and those characters, got to see and do all kinds of unimaginable things. All because they went for it. 

After leaning over to flick on her lamp, Dearing tugged Earhart onto her lap. Beside her bed lay a notebook full of pros and cons. Her future was open. After an event such as the one she’d just experienced, there was a fork in her road. She could continue on the path she’d worked for since middle school, as planned, or take up Masroni’s offer. She had never felt like she belonged anywhere as much as on Isla Nublar. That was a place where she could really make a difference and do what she liked. 

Scratching her dog behind the ears, the redhead thought it over some more. There was so much change happening in her life right now she often felt like her head was spinning. Choosing what to do with your life was a difficult decision for anyone but Dearing felt like she was at war with herself. Whatever she ended up doing, Claire knew her life would be certainly affected by what happened during her internship. Maybe it was all meant to be. Jurassic World opens so soon and who knows where that will lead. Who knows where that will lead for Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore Clawen first of all! And Claire is my role model! I just love her. I am pretty bad at writing endings so RIP.  
> I know all the styles of each of these one shots tend to vary with some just being descriptive, some being like stories and some being a little bit of both.  
> This was pretty heavily inspired by Claire's YA book which you should read if you haven't!  
> Anyway, enjoy, comment, question, request, and I hope you have a great day.  
> (Is it just me or is the Jurassic fandom, at least the Jurassic PARK fandom, kinda small? I feel like it is.)  
> God bless ya'll


	27. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> headcanon: When Ian is upset over a panic attack or nightmare or something, he doesn’t want to be alone but doesn’t want to worry anyone. so he usually acts casual and like he isn’t dying inside and just clings to whoever he’s currently with.  
> inspiration: jp movies

“Ian, are you okay?” Sarah asks her husband drowsily. Still full of sleep, her voice is low as she mutters next to him. Ian pinches his eyes shut, greedily gasping down gulps of air. His eyes dart around the dark room frantically as he takes a second to observe his surroundings. Wiping a trembling hand across his sweaty face, he shakes his head to clear the images that resided there. In the darkness, he cannot see her but Sarah shifts onto her side. Malcolm almost jumps when he feels her lay her hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” He makes out. Malcolm pulls the blanket up so it covers his chest. “I’m fine.” The words feel bland and dry in his mouth. They’ve lost their meaning to Malcolm at this point. The words were more of a mantra than truth. He told them to anyone who asked if he was alright and he gave them what they wanted to hear. Besides, it more important to him he be strong for his kids, or Sarah, or Alan and Ellie than show how broken he really was. They shouldn’t have to worry about him and neither should he. 

Heart racing still, Ian turned to face where Sarah was. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he trailed his fingers down her arm until he found her hand. Their fingers entwined and Ian hoped she wouldn’t notice the trembling of his hands. “If it was nothing you’d be giving me some snarky comment about waking you up,” Sarah muttered, half-joking, Ian could hear the smile in his wife’s voice. He tried to control his panting breaths so she wouldn’t detect his fear. 

“If you keep trying to, uh, have conversations with me in the middle of the night, I’m moving to the couch.” He jokes, breathily. The redhead gives off a laugh quiet with drowsiness. As he begins to shift on the mattress, Sarah halfway sits up as well. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close to him so she’s cuddled against his side. Sarah frowned. She knew her husband and he responded physically to things that were bothering him. She brushed it off though. She just wanted to sleep.

Before long, Sarah fell asleep against Malcolm but he stayed up. Staring up toward the ceiling, his mind was racing with the remnants of his nightmare. Stroking his wife’s back, he convinced himself she was safe. 

Despite being straightforward and blunt about his thoughts and emotions most of the time, Malcolm had an equal number of things he hid from the people he knew. Anything to do with dinosaurs was one of those things. He didn’t like being fussed over when there were people who needed it more. Ian needed to be there for the people he loved and there was no reason why they should have to waste time worrying about him. 

He kept his PTSD symptoms to himself. Ian saved the panic attacks, flashbacks, and nightmares just for him. He hated being alone though, causing him to war with himself between his need to remains strong and his fear of being alone. 

His solutions were the best of both worlds. Once he was once again in a somewhat stable state of mind, he allowed himself to ask for attention. Many times he had grasped Sarah’s hand tight after something set him off, not letting go. Those that knew him were aware of his affections. The shoulder bumping, hugging, and other kinds of contact were normal to Ian’s loved ones. However, he was more ‘clingy’ when he was distraught. Ian hated loneliness.  
Feeling Sarah breathe against his side, he told himself it was okay. In the darkness, it was easier to wonder if he was lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made my ship married. YAY  
> Idek, just some angst, and ship.  
> Feel free to comment, request, and question.  
> God bless.  
> 


	28. Ian Malcolm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: After Nublar, Ian learned how to defend himself. Along with the PT, he worked out and learned both hand to hand combat and how to shoot.  
> Inspiration: JP Movies. (This is just a HC I've believed in for such a long time it took me awhile to realize it even eas a headcanon lol)

Malcolm’s leg ached. Other than ticking his fingertips against his thigh, no one would be able to tell. Physical therapy really hurt. He’d lost so much muscle in the leg after Jurassic Park that is seemed like the therapy would never end. 

Planting his feet, Ian clenched his jaw. The action felt weird underneath the pressure of the headphones. He grasped the gun with both hands and steadily pointed it towards the target on the other side of the shooting range. 

Most people wouldn’t expect Dr. Malcolm to be the type to have a shooting license but there were a lot of things almost no one knew about him. After Jurassic Park and that disaster, the hospital, and all that ensued, Ian had never felt more helpless. Throughout all his time on Nublar and in the hospital afterward, he felt so defenseless. In so much pain, half conscious, unable to run if anything happened, pumped full of pain meds, and counting on other people for pretty much everything, had left him feeling insanely vulnerable. If something else came along, he’d need to be prepared. So, he made sure he would be.

Malcolm started with keeping up with his physical therapy. No use learning anything else if he couldn’t even walk. The slow progress over the injury bugged him and his therapist constantly reprimanded him over overexerting the leg. Despite his impatience, Malcolm made steady progress and as soon as the results were acceptable, he quit.

Although his leg would never be what it was, the results were satisfactory enough for him at the time. Ian had lost so much weight during his months in the hospital, in both his leg and the rest of his body. Ergo, he spent a significant amount of time gaining it back in muscle. After the university kicked revoked his tenure, Ian unfortunately had a lot of free time on his hands. He filled it with various activities to block out the criticism of the press and public. Out of all the exercises he did, running was the worst. It felt like any kind of exertion was an attempt to tear his leg apart. 

Along with working out, Malcolm learned self-defense. Throwing punches wouldn’t help if he was faced with dinosaurs again, but he felt better knowing he wasn’t entirely defenseless. Ian practiced hand to hand combat similar to the style police fight. 

Malcolm’s instructor warned him not to push himself too hard but Ian didn’t mind the pain. His knuckles were split and his arms littered in bruises but not even the protests from his leg could stop him. Sarah sometimes joined him in the self-defense lessons and they’d fought each other for fun once or twice.

Finally, he got set on learning to shoot. It was difficult to attain a license when the entire media was pushing that he was insane, so Malcolm was forced to take the angle that he made it all up. He took lessons at a range near to his apartment. He bought firearms of his own, a handgun and a rifle, and kept them locked away and hidden in the hall closet. 

Throughout Ian’s life, if he was afraid of something, he’d study it to death. Researching until too many facts filled his brain about it for him to remember he was afraid. He always ended his problems through solving them. He was afraid of being that helpless ever again, so he made sure he wasn’t. 

Malcolm exhaled slowly as he squeezed the trigger. An echo exploded out of he weapon that was loud even through the earmuffs. He kept his elbows locked to resist the force that jerked him backward a couple inches. He squinted though the orange tint of the safety glasses as he lowered the gun, clicking the safety on immediately. Shaking out the soreness in his arms, Ian sighed at the pulsing in his leg. The pain never did leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot proves I have no idea how to end things. How do I conclusion? lol  
> Anyway *insert spiel*


	29. Ellie Sattler, Ian Malcolm, and Alan Grant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Alan and Ellie know Ian’s fear of being alone so if his nightmares are bad, they will let him talk to them on the phone until he falls asleep.  
> Inspiration: JP movies

Alan, Ellie, and Ian all had an unspoken code about midnight phone calls. Ellie was usually the first to reach out to the others. If she was distressed she wasn’t afraid to tell them so and that she needed to speak to either of them. Usually she talked to Ian because he was easier to contact and a hundred times chattier than Alan was. 

Dr. Grant was never the one to pick up the phone and make the call. Maybe he didn’t even know how to call on a cell phone. Malcolm usually didn’t call either unless he really needed it. He had to be truly desperate to interrupt either of their lives. 

However, Ian hated loneliness especially when he was thinking of the park. He was always reluctant to end phone calls, keeping Alan or Ellie talking to him as long as possible. Fortunately, the other two knew about his fear of being alone so they let him talk their ears off. Ian tended to talk other people to sleep and talk himself to sleep too. Most phone calls ended with both parties dozing, the phone on the ground. 

They had all been there to soothe each other’s panic attacks and lull the others back to sleep when it seemed most impossible. It was with Grant that Ellie tended to have her longest conversations with. Those two spoke until sunrise most often. 

The calls between Grant and Malcolm, on the other hand, tended to be shorter. Alan never spoke much so his conversations with Ian were mostly with Malcolm doing all the talking. They teased each other and picked fights. When Grant mentioned ending the call, though, Malcolm would grow serious, trying to prolong the call. Alan didn’t mind since his ranting about equations put them both to sleep. 

Not being in the middle of nowhere, Ellie and Ian always talked the most. He always picked up for her and she never hung up for him. 

All three of them kept closely in touch. Their phone calls went by a set of unspoken rules but they were always there for each other and knew each others needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet money that I will come back and change this one at some point in the future. I vow to come back and change this to make it fluffy and cute and not just information and word vomit.   
> On a related-ish-not-really note: The fourth of July is coming up and you know what that means! It means Independence Day fanficsssss! I'M EXCITED  
> Anyway, yeah. Have a nice life.  
> *Spiel*


	30. Maisie Lockwood, Claire Dearing, and Owen Grady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Claire and Owen homeschooled Maisie.  
> Inspiration: JW: Fallen Kingdom

“This one allows you to interact with your teacher and fellow students.” Claire scrolls down the internet page. Next to Claire in front of the computer, Maisie sits on Owen’s lap. The redhead continues to scroll down. 

“I think finding the right homeschooling program is going to require more than a google search.” Owen snorted jokingly. 

“Why can’t I go to public school?” Maisie complained. “I want to make friends.”

“I’m sorry kid, but that’s not a possibility right now.” Rubbing his hand up and down her back, Owen smiled grimly. 

“I can be a normal girl.” She muttered under her breath, eyes downcast. Claire and Owen exchanged a glance. Dearing turned in her seat to take the young girl’s hand. 

“Maisie, honey, I told you, there is nothing different about you. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

“Then why can’t I finally go to public school?” The young Brit cried out causing the adults to share a look again. Claire spoke first. 

“It’s not about you, it’s about-”

“-what’s out there.” Grady finished, nodding towards the window. All three of them looked up to peer through the glass. They all grew silent, eyes transfixed on the bushes swaying in the breeze of the night. 

“Have you seen any?” Maisie questioned, leaning forward on Grady’s knee. Placing a hand on Maisie’s shoulder to stabilize her, he replied somberly. 

“Not any real ones recently.” Dearing turned to look over at her boyfriend, ponytail swishing. His face was a sock drawer of emotions but his eyes were laced with loss. They hadn’t seen Blue either since Lockwood’s estate. Claire laid her hand over his briefly.

They shook themselves from the stupor and turned back to the screen. The redhead scrolled down the page further, eyes shooting to reviews of the programs. “Thank goodness for technology,” Owen joked. “or else your homeschooling would end after one day if I told you all I know.” 

Owen and Claire chose to home-school their new daughter. They figured it would be the safest for her considering both the Dinosaur Outbreak and safer for her personally. InGen may still want to get a hold of her and possibly other companies that heard about her may too.

It wasn’t safe. Besides, homeschooling was something Maisie knew. Being smart enough to keep her from the public, her grandfather kept her from public schooling all her life. She’d never really had friends and Owen and Claire felt bad they couldn’t give her more chances to make any. Maisie could use a little company. 

“I want to go to bed now.” Maisie mumbled before hopping off her new father’s knee.

“Oh,” Claire turned to face the girl’s retreating form. “Love you.”

“Goodnight, kid.” The adults waited until they heard her door shut on the other side of the RV before facing one another. 

“She’s mad at us isn’t she?” Owen just shrugged. 

“Maybe. She’ll have forgotten in the morning.” The redhead nodded stiffly before reaching to shut off the laptop. Catching a glimpse of his girlfriend’s downcast gaze, Owen Grady grasped her wrist as she stood up. “What’s wrong?” Shoulders heaving, she sighed. 

“I just wish we could give her what she wants. She deserves so much more than life gave her.” Owen stood up to look her in the eye. He wrapped his arms around her.

“it’s okay. She’s a good kid and we’ll make it up to her.” They embraced, hearts beating against the other. “it’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea. I'm late. Rip.  
> SO this was Grady family fluff because they are the best family in the series and amazinggg. I was obsessed with Jurassic World before I got into Jurassic Park so I don't write about Clawen as much. They are an OTP tho.  
> Anyway, forth of July is approaching sssoo be prepared for Independence Day stuff.  
> Luv ya'll and God bless.


	31. *Author's Note*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Not a Head Canon but simply an important message from this writer to readers*

  **Author's Note**

 

Jurassic June has ended! 

When I started this I said that I will post one of my headcanons as a one shot for every day of Jurassic June resulting in 30 Jurassic Park/World One-Shots. 

Since June has now ended I will most likely not be updating this anymore with headcanons and one shots. 

**However, requests are still open!!**

If you have a Jurassic-related headcanon you will like to see as a one shot, just leave a comment with the HC asking for one.

If you don't have headcanons of your own but want more that's okay too; Just ask to see a one shot with a certain character and I will make another with a HC I have for that character.

Once you ask for a one shot, I will try to post it within a few days for you! 

Requests are most likely to remain open for a long time and I will let you know when they aren't anymore. 

I love this fandom and hope you enjoyed all the the Jurassic June character one shots! Remember, God loves you and I hope you have a great day! 

Bye. (for now. *ominous music*)


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